





y 

ftes«ry# Storag® 
Colltctifo 



Class 
Book . 

Copyright N° C sp&y 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 

























The Simple Case of Susan 




















SUSAN 





The Simple Case 
of Susan 


By 

Jacques Futrelle 

Author of 

“The Thinking Machine on the Case,” etc. 



New York 

D. Appleton and Company 
1908 


•j Two O' i 


Ar’ri 16 1908 | 

‘ »4f W <•!>*?> j 

c ^.%1 #**] 

VS-AS$ ** 'u-v .1 

2C2 *413 

s- 



Copyright, 1908, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

Copyright, 1908, by 
THE CURTIS PUBLISHING CO. 


Published, April, 1908 


To HER 

All by HERSELF 


Scituate, 1908 



The Simple Case 
of Susan 


I 

S USAN’S eyes were blue wells of 
promises unfulfilled; Susan’s mouth 
was a scarlet bow of hope unattainable ; 
Susan’s hair was an alluring trap, baited 
with sunlight; Susan’s nose was re- 
trousse. Susan was the ever-receding 
rainbow, the mocking will-o’-the-wisp, 
intangible as the golden mist of dawn, 
irrepressible as the perfume of a rose, 
irresistible as the song of the siren. She 
was unexpectedness in person, a quirk 
in the accepted order of things, elusive 
as fame, fleeting as moonbeams. 

Susan had a larger collection of un- 
happy hearts pinned up in the specimen 
1 


The Simple Case of Susan 


cabinet of her affections than any other 
woman in her set. Even her enemies ad- 
mitted this, adding thereto some spite- 
ful, venomous thing which was intended 
to blunt the point — but didn’t. Not that 
she had escaped unscathed when the city 
of Eros fell, for she had not. She had 
been seized upon by a giant among the 
pygmies, and lashed to the chariot wheel 
of matrimony. Instantly she became a 
demure, sedate wife, enslaving as she 
was enslaved, adoring as she was 
adored. 

But it were damming the waters of 
Lethe to effectually repress the charm, 
the effervescence, the Susanism of Su- 
san. She was still adorable from the 
tips of her boots to the last riotous 
strands of her head. There was an in- 
disputable unanimity of masculine opin- 
ion on this last point. And her whims 
and caprices were still the only laws she 
2 


The Simple Case of Susan 


recognized save when the master spoke, 
and she bowed in grateful submission. 

This was Susan. Perhaps the stately 
Mrs. Wetmore described her more 
tersely when she said she was feather- 
headed. Be that as it may, Susan was 
Susan — irrevocably, everlastingly, and 
eternally Susan. 


II 


S USAN was thoughtfully nibbling a 
biscuit tortoni in one corner of a 
Broadway confectionery shop, when the 
door opened and — enter a young man. 
He was tall and straight and clean-cut; 
a personal compliment to his tailor and 
hatter and bootmaker. There was a 
glowing tan on his cheeks, pleasant 
lines about his mouth, and the languor 
of idleness in his eyes. Susan glanced 
around inquiringly. 

“ Why, Dan Wilbur ! ” she exclaimed. 
The young man turned with quick in- 
terest. 

“ Sue Courtenay ! ” 

It was almost enthusiasm. He 
reached the table in three strides, and 
two strong hands closed over one deli- 
cately gloved one. 


4 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“Not Courtenay, now, Dan,” Susan 
corrected. “ Mrs. Lieutenant Paul Ab- 
ercrombie Harwell Rowland, if you 
please.” 

She sat up primly under the burden 
of that imposing name and withdrew 
the gloved hand. Mr. Wilbur reluctant- 
ly allowed it to flutter away, then sat 
down on the opposite side of the table 
with mingled inquiry and surprise on 
his face. 

“All that?” he asked. “Since 
when? ” 

“Oh, for more than two years! 
Hadn’t you heard?” 

“But what became of Charlie Beck- 
with? ” 

“Oh, he’s married!” Susan smiled 
charmingly. 

“ But you were engaged to ” 

“Do try one of these biscuits , Dan. 
They’re delicious.” 


5 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“And then there was Julian Black- 
well! ” 

Susan shrugged her shoulders. 

“And Frank Camp!” 

Susan merely nibbled. 

“ And Ed Rainey! ” he went on accus- 
ingly. 

“Oh, please, Dan, don’t call the roll 
like that,” Susan pleaded. “It isn’t 
nice, really. Some of them are married 
and seem to be glad of it, and the others 
are not married, and they seem to be 
equally glad of it.” 

“And, please, who is this Lieutenant 
— er — er! Would you mind saying it 
all over again! ” 

“Lieutenant Paul Abercrombie Har- 
well Rowland.” 

“ Phew! Well, who is he! ” 

“ Oh, you never met him,” Susan 
assured him. “ Society has been ini- 
tiated into the army since you went 
6 


The Simple Case of Susan 


away. But he’s the dearest, darling- 
est ” 

“Yes, of course. But after that?” 

“ Well, he’s an army officer. He 
happened along after you went away 
three years ago and — and just married 
me.” 

Mr. Wilbur was leaning forward on 
the table thoughtfully stroking his chin. 
There was almost an incredulous ex- 
pression in the listless eyes. 

“ An army officer,” he repeated. 
“ Well, would you mind telling me how 
— why did — say, how did he do it?” 

“ Oh, I don’t know quite,” Susan ex- 
plained serenely. “He asked me to 
marry him, and I said No, and he asked 
me again, and I said No, and he asked 
me again , and I said No. And then he 
just went ahead and married me, any- 
way.” 

Mr. Wilbur smiled. 

7 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“I suppose that’s the only way it 
could ever have been done — by main 
strength,” he remarked after a while. 
“ But you didn’t deserve any better, Sue. 
I’m glad he did it.” 

“ So am I.” 

A smile flickered about Susan’s lips, 
and from the bottomless blue eyes came 
a flash which set Mr. Wilbur’s well- 
ordered nerves a-tingling. He drew a 
long breath. 

“ Married ! ” he remarked at last. 
“ Well, by George ! ” 

Susan regarded him severely, with a 
haughty uplifting of her brows, and a 
prim expression about the scarlet 
mouth. Of course it was all right for 
him to be surprised — she had expected 
him, even wanted him to be surprised — 
but not so surprised. Why it was — it 
was almost insulting. 

" And where have you been for three 
8 


The Simple Case of Susan 


years ? ” Susan queried at last duti- 
fully. 

“ Everywhere, almost,” Mr. Wilbur 
replied. “ Around the world once, just 
knocking about, and now I’m about to 
start on another lap. I came in yes- 
terday from Liverpool, and this after- 
noon I’m starting for San Francisco 
to catch a steamer for the Philippines. 
I’m to join the Mortons at Manila 
for a cruise in the Sea of Japan, 
and later through Suez to the Mediter- 
ranean.” 

“This afternoon? All sudden like 
that ? ” Susan demanded. “ Can’t you 
stay over a few days?” She simply 
had to ask that because Dan really was 
a nice chap, you know. 

“ Oh, I don’t think so,” said Mr. Wil- 
bur. “It’s rather purposeless hanging 
around New York, and traveling is some- 
thing to do, you know.” He paused and 
9 


The Simple Case of Susan 


stared straight into Susan’s blue eyes. 
“ Married ! By George ! ” 

Susan favored him with a frown 
of reproach, which was suddenly lost 
in a bewildering smile, and again 
the unfathomable depths of her eyes 
flashed. 

“ And why are you here ? Who is the 
girl this time? ” 

Mr. Wilbur shook his head. 

“No girl,” he said. “I came over 
merely to sign some papers to close up 
my grandfather’s estate. I’m to do 
that at twelve o’clock, and at three I 
get a train West.” Mr. Wilbur gazed 
into eyes suddenly grown pensive. 
“ Sue, marriage has improved you. You 
are even better looking than you used 
to be.” 

The shimmering head was tilted back 
daringly, the lids drooped for an in- 
stant, then the head came forward 
10 


The Simple Case of Susan 


again, and the blue wells of pledges un- 
fulfilled renewed their promises. 

“ Dan, I know it,” she replied. 

“ And more a flirt than ever,” Mr. 
Wilbur mused complacently. Susan's 
scarlet mouth twitched invitingly. 
“ Yes, a flirt — an outrageous, uncon- 
scionable flirt ! ” 

“No,” Susan denied pleasantly. 

“ You were always a flirt.” 

“ Well, of course, I won't say — I'm not 
a flirt now , anyway.” 

“Nature is immutable,” Mr. Wilbur 
went on accusingly, “therefore if you 
were a flirt you are a flirt.” 

Susan was almost on the point of 
smiling again, when it occurred to her 
that it might be injudicious, indiscreet 
even, in view of the expression on Mr. 
Wilbur's face, and she suddenly as- 
sumed a gravity portentous with mean- 
ing. 


2 


11 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ I would be willing to stake the 
gloves,” Mr. Wilbur continued merci- 
lessly, “ that you have led your husband 
a chase.” 

“Why, Dan, that isn’t true, and it 
isn’t fair to say such a thing,” Susan de- 
nied reproachfully. “ It isn’t like you 
to be — to be — ungracious.” 

For an instant Mr. Wilbur awaited 
the illuminating smile, but her face con- 
tinued serious. 

“ I beg your pardon,” he said at last. 
“ I didn’t mean it to be as solemn as all 
that, really. But don’t you remember 
that night in the Casino at Newport 
when ” 

“ Dan!” 

“ There never was another moon in 
the world like that, and ” 

“ Dan Wilbur ! ” 

“ And that double seat in the horse- 


shoe where- 


12 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Mr. Wilbur ! ” 

The young man leaned back in his 
chair and smiled into the pouting face 
before him. The pouting face continued 
serious — grew painfully so, in fact — 
and after a moment the under lip trem- 
bled the least bit. 

“ Sue, I didn’t intend to hurt you,” 
apologized Mr. Wilbur almost hastily. 
“ I was only ” 

“ Pm not a — a what you said I was,” 
she protested. “ You are never to think 
of me that way. I am Mrs. Lieuten- 
ant ” 

“ — Paul ” 

“ — Abercrombie ” 

“ — Harwell ” 

“ — Rowland,” she finished desperate- 
ly. “ Dan Wilbur, you make me so an- 
gry I could — could choke you, nearly. I 

won’t have you say I’m a flirt even ” 

“ — if you are ? ” 


13 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Susan thrust a spoon viciously into 
the biscuit , and her eyes shone moistly 
limpid. 

“ That isn’t what I mean at all,” she 
protested angrily. 

Mr. Wilbur suddenly relinquished his 
tone of banter and leaned forward again 
with his arms resting on the table. 

“ Now, let’s be friends,” he urged. 
“ We may not see each other again for 
a long time, and we must be friends. 
Now, I’ll have to be at my lawyer’s office 
at noon, but I shall have finished by 
one o’clock. Won’t you forgive me? 
And won’t you prove your forgiveness 
by having luncheon with me ? ” 

“ No,” Susan flashed. 

“ I’m going away this afternoon, and 
it may be for several years. Please?” 

“ No,” Susan repeated stoutly. “ I 
don’t care if you are — I mean I’m sorry 
you are going away, but I won’t.” 

14 


The Simple Case of Susan 


One of Mr. Wilbur’s hands touched 
the tip of her gloved finger, and she 
primly withdrew it. 

“ Is it a matter of principle f ” he 
asked. “ Is it because I have offended 
you? Or is it — just because?” 

“ It’s — it’s just because, Dan,” and the 
lids fluttered down. After a moment she 
went on : “ I’m perfectly happy, Dan — 
I never knew I could be so happy — and 
I’m the least bit afraid that Paul is the 
least bit jealous, and besides,” she con- 
tinued triumphantly, “I couldn’t have 
luncheon with you, anyway, because — 
now I’ll prove I’m not a flirt — because 
I’m to meet my husband at one o’clock 
and have luncheon with him — my hus- 
band, do you understand ? ” 

“ Your own husband ! ” mused Mr. 
Wilbur. 

“ My own husband,” Susan repeated. 
“And I won’t take you along, either, 
15 


The Simple Case of Susan 


because after what you’ve said I — well, 
I won’t take you. Really, Dan, if you 
weren’t going away I’d almost say I 
hated you, but I don’t really. You’re a 
nice boy — sometimes,” and a dazzling 
smile was his reward. 

“ Susan,” Mr. Wilbur reproved stern- 
ly, “ are you trying to flirt with me ? ” 

“ No,” she stormed. 

“ Now, Susan? ” tauntingly. 

“ No.” 


Ill 


B UT man proposes and business in- 
terposes. So it came about that Su- 
san’s husband — Lieutenant Paul Aber- 
crombie Harwell Rowland — did not ap- 
pear to take her to luncheon. Instead, 
at the appointed time and place, Lieu- 
tenant Faulkner, U. S. A., arose before 
her with an explanation. 

“ Paul got a hurry call from the Army 
and Navy Building for a conference at 
one o’clock,” he informed her, “ and 
they’ll probably gas all afternoon. So 
he sent me on to take you to chow at 
Sherry’s. Come along.” 

Susan accepted the situation philo- 
sophically, and thus it came to pass that 
a few minutes later they were safely 
ensconced at a table together. The 
waiter took the order, then rushed 
17 


The Simple Case of Susan 


away, while Lieutenant Faulkner stared 
silently at Susan for a time. 

“ Say, Sue,” he inquired suddenly, “ do 
you happen to know a Miss Stanwood — 
Marjorie Stanwood?” 

“Marjorie Stanwood?” Susan re- 
peated thoughtfully. “No, I don’t be- 
lieve I do. Why?” 

“ I want to meet her, and I don’t know 
anybody who knows her,” the lieutenant 
explained. 

Susan’s eyes sparkled. 

“Oh, that’s it?” she taunted gleeful- 
ly. “ Who is she ? ” 

“ She is the only daughter of a man 
who has so much money, he has to spend 
all his time dodging process-servers,” 
Lieutenant Faulkner informed her. 
“ WThy, Sue, he’s got bales of it ; one of 
these chaps that the muckrakers pin 
up against the wall and do tricks with. 
If the sum total were written down in 
18 


The Simple Case of Susan 


figures you couldn’t pronounce it. 
Sale? ” 

“Oh, it’s the money, then?” Susan 
accused him. 

“ No. She could hang her hat on my 
rack if she didn’t have more than — more 
than two or three millions to her name.” 

“ Pretty?” 

“ Cleopatra’s clean out of the money 
— a cigarette picture.” 

“ Where did you meet her? ” 

“ I haven’t met her, that’s what’s the 
matter. I want to find somebody who 
knows somebody who knows somebody 
who knows her.” 

“ Where did you see her, then? ” 

“ At the opera,” replied the lieuten- 
ant. “Why, Sue, she’s the prettiest 
thing that ever lived in the world, ex- 
cept — except ” 

Susan waited confidently. 

“ Except whom? ” she inquired. 

19 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Except a Spanish woman who tried 
to stick a machete under my fifth rib 
during some hand-to-hand scrapping in 
the Philippines,” replied the lieutenant 
reminiscently. “ She was the prettiest 
thing that ever ! ” 

Susan sat up haughtily. 

“ And, pray, what is my number on 
your list ? ” she inquired. 

“ Oh, of course, you beat ’em all,” 
replied Lieutenant Faulkner absently. 
“ But, Sue, you ought to see her.” 

“ I have no interest whatever in her,” 
remarked Susan coldly. “ I dare say 
she paints, anyway.” 

“Well, if she does, Michael Angelo 
was a cartoonist.” 

“ Or is thin and slatty looking ! ” 

“ Hebe was not in the same class.” 

“ Or her nose is red.” 

“ Her nose,” the lieutenant rhapso- 
dized. “Why, Sue, her nose is — is — 
20 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Say, I don’t know how pretty Helen of 
Troy was, but I’ll bet if she had ever 
taken one look at Marjorie Stanwood 
she’d have hit it up cross country to the 
beauty specialists. And Venus! Why, 
she’d go hide her head in a sack.” 

Susan was miffed. All women are 
miffed when man takes occasion to re- 
mark upon the beauty of another wom- 
an. She stabbed an olive, the scarlet 
lips curled disdainfully, and there was 
an aggressive slant to her shimmering 
head. 

“ Marjorie,” she remarked. “ Such a 
messy sounding name.” 

“ Marjorie ! ” repeated Lieutenant 
Faulkner. He pronounced it as if it 
were a bonbon. “ I can imagine an 
angel named Marjorie — an angel 
with ” 

“ A red nose,” Susan put in, “ a thin, 
slatty looking angel.” 

21 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Lieutenant Faulkner dropped back 
into bis cbair with an air of resig- 
nation. 

“ I was thinking,” he observed at last, 
“ that you might go out of your way to 
help a fellow meet her. Don’t you re- 
member that night when I proposed to 
you, and ” 

“ There were so many nights,” Susan 
complained. 

“ Well, that last night when you 
turned me down hard ? What did I do ? 
Didn’t I go straight and bring Paul over 
and introduce him to you? And didn’t 
you marry him? Turn about is fair 
play. It’s your time to help me. Sabef ” 

Susan was thoughtful for a little 
while, and then a furtive smile grew un- 
til it utterly obliterated the wofully ag- 
grieved expression of her face. 

“ I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” she said 
graciously. “ I’ll get you a bid to the 
22 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Sanger ball Thursday night, and per- 
haps ” 

“Will she be there?” the lieutenant 
demanded eagerly. 

“ I dare say she will, if she goes any- 
where, and HI see that you are intro- 
duced, anyway.” 

“ Sue, you’re a good girl,” exclaimed 
the lieutenant. “ Tout along my game 
some. Tell her there wasn’t anybody at 
Manila but me and Dewey. You per- 
haps don’t know that I’m the most prom- 
ising young man in the United States 
Army? Well, I am, even if the officials 
won’t admit it. Tell that to her. One 
of these days I’m going to be a general, 
and think of the uniforms I could buy 
with Stanwood money? I’d look like a 
sunburst.” 

“ I shall do nothing of the kind,” re- 
proved Susan. “ I’ll merely introduce 
you, and you may fight your own battle.” 

23 


The Simple Case of Susan 


The soup came, and the fish. At the 
entree Susan dropped her fork. 

“ Goodness gracious ! ” she exclaimed. 

“What’s the matter? Do you see 
Marjorie? ” 

“No, silly. Don’t look back — please 
don’t look back.” She leaned across the 
table breathlessly. “ Do you happen to 
know Dan Wilbur?” 

“ Don’t think I ever heard of him. Is 
he one of your string ? ” 

“ Why, it’s perfectly awful ! ” Susan 
exploded. “ I refused to go to luncheon 
with him because I told him — I told him 
— gracious me ! ” 

“ What’s the excitement ? ” insisted 
Lieutenant Faulkner. 

Susan’s lips were suddenly frozen 
into a smile which was not wholly for- 
bidding, but it wasn’t anything else, and 
she nodded over Lieutenant Faulkner’s 
shoulder at some one behind him. 

24 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Don’t look — oh, please don’t look,” 
she pleaded desperately. “ I hope — I 
do hope, he doesn’t come over here.” 

Lieutenant Faulkner’s occupation in 
life was obeying orders, unless per- 
chance, he was giving them. And now 
he sat perfectly still, with an inquiring 
uplift of his brows. 

“ What’s Mr. Wilbur going to do ? ” 
he inquired at last. “ Throw a plate at 
us?” 

“ I can’t tell you — I can’t explain — 
but he’s coming — he’s coming — 
and ” 

The lieutenant straightened up in his 
chair. He wanted to do the right thing, 
whatever that might be, and the deep 
perturbation on Susan’s face indicated 
a need of action. 

“ Shall I give Mr. Wilbur a poke?” 
he queried. 

“ Oh, goodness, no !” exclaimed Susan. 

25 


The Simple Case of Susan 


The lieutenant was willing, but impas- 
sive. “ Just don’t speak — don’t say 
anything — don’t do am/thing! Are you 
sure you’ve never met him*? ” 

“ Well, I wouldn’t take an oath that I 
hadn’t, but — ” the lieutenant began. 

“ Sh-h-h-h ! He’s coming ! ” 

Lieutenant Faulkner proceeded calm- 
ly with the entree. After a moment 
some one appeared beside him. He 
barely glanced up. 

“0 Dan, I’m so glad to see you 
again ! ” Susan bubbled. “ I hadn’t ex- 
pected that — that — ” and she really 
hadn’t expected it. “ Do let me intro- 
duce you. Mr. Wilbur this is — this is 
the lieutenant. Lieutenant, permit me 
— Mr. Wilbur.” 

Lieutenant Faulkner arose to take the 
proffered hand. 

“ I’m very glad, indeed, to meet you, 
Lieutenant,” Mr. Wilbur assured him. 

26 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Lieutenant Faulkner considered the 
matter calmly, carefully, and dispas- 
sionately, as he sought some illuminat- 
ing suggestion in Susan’s face. But 
there was nothing ; he was alone to 
struggle out the best way he could. 

“ Thank you,” he ventured at last. 

“ I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. 
Rowland here some years ago,” Mr. 
Wilbur continued, “ and I ran across 
her accidentally this morning. I pre- 
sume congratulations are too late 
now ? ” 

“ Really, it’s a matter of no conse- 
quence,” replied Lieutenant Faulkner, 
with the utmost unconcern. “ Pray, 
don’t mention it.” 

Mr. Wilbur looked slightly surprised, 
that was all. 

“ I tried to induce Mrs. Rowland to 
permit me — ” he began. 

“ Lieutenant, do you know what time 

3 27 


The Simple Case of Susan 


it is ? ” demanded Susan suddenly. 
There was a warning excitement in the 
tone; Lieutenant Faulkner glanced up. 

“No. What time is it?” he queried, 
as if startled. 

“ Our engagement you remember at 
half-past one, and here it is twenty 

minutes to two, and ” 

Lieutenant Faulkner arose suddenly. 

“ I had no idea it was so late,” he 
declared valiantly in deep concern. 
“ Hadn't we better go at once? ” 

“ Just what I was thinking,” remarked 
Susan hurriedly. “ Awfully sorry not 
to have seen more of you, Dan. Impor- 
tant engagement, you know. Awful 
hurry. Good-by. Pleasant trip.” 


IV 


[Letter from Mrs. Paul Abercrombie 
Harwell Rowland, of New York, to Mrs. 
J. Hildegarde Stevens, of Philadelphia .] 

“At Home, Wednesday. 

M Y dear, dear Aunt Gardie : 

“ The end of the world has come. 
Now please, please don’t scold. I didn’t 
bring it — it just came. It descended 
upon me and I am absolutely over- 
whelmed. I feel so lost and weepy about 
it that I simply must ask advice. 
There’s no one else I can ask advice of 
— so. It happened this way: 

“You remember Dan Wilbur, don’t 
you? You remember, too, about three 
years ago when he proposed to me and 
I refused — another one ! — he went away 
for a tour of the world? Well, he’s back. 
He brought the end of the world with 
29 


The Simple Case of Susan 


him, and that’s what’s the matter. At 
least if he hadn’t come back it wouldn’t 
have happened. 

“I was in Maillard’s the other day 
when Dan appeared. He had just ar- 
rived the day before to sign some legal 
documents and close up his grand- 
father’s estate, and told me he was go- 
ing away that afternoon to San Fran- 
cisco, and then to the Philippines to join 
the Mortons for another long cruise. 
We had some conversation about — 
about, oh, lots of things, and auntie, 
dear, he accused me of being a flirt ! He 
didn’t say it just casually, either. He 
insisted upon it and argued about it, and 
wanted to prove it, and almost did. 

“ Now you know I’m not a flirt. You 
know since my marriage to Paul I have 
tried and tried and tried to make every 
act of my life dignified and consistent. 
Whether I have or not I don’t know, but 
30 


The Simple Case of Susan 


I have tried, because I think every mar- 
ried woman should be dignified and con- 
sistent — if she can. Of course there’s 
that horrid Mabel — but never mind ! 

“Anyway, Dan reminded me of that 
time up at Newport when he made a fool 
of himself (as if I could help that!) and 
asked all about the others. He insisted 
that I had flirted with him and that I had 
flirted with them, and that I’m a flirt 
now, which, of course, isn’t true. He 
insisted so hard and said such mean 
things to me that I think I must have 
lost my temper. He was so smug and 
self-satisfied and complacent about it 
that I just hated him. 

“ In conclusion, he invited me to 
luncheon with him. It just happened 
that I had an engagement to luncheon 
with Paul, and I could not have accepted 
his if I had wanted to. Not that I 
wanted to, of course. Anyway, I could 
31 


The Simple Case of Susan 


not have accepted, and I wouldn’t have 
after all the mean things he said. 

“Now he had told me positively he 
was going away that afternoon, so I 
said good-by and we talked about not 
seeing each other for years and years, 
and then I left him to meet Paul. But 
instead of meeting me Paul had to go 
down to that horrid old Army and Navy 
Building to consult with somebody about 
something — it seems to me he spends all 
his life doing that — and rather than dis- 
appoint me he sent Lieutenant Faulkner 
to take me to Sherry’s to luncheon. You 
know Lieutenant Faulkner, of course. 

“ Well, we went to Sherry’s, and right 
in the middle of our luncheon who should 
appear but Dan Wilbur ! Of all the 
places in the world where he might have 
gone, of course he had to go to Sherry’s. 
And there was I with Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner, when I had told Dan that I was 
32 


The Simple Case of Susan 


going to luncheon with my husband — 
he didn’t know either of them, by the 
way — and had refused to go to luncheon 
with him to prove that I was not — was 
not that kind. I almost strangled when 
I saw him. You understand it wouldn’t 
have disturbed me at all if he hadn’t 
just accused me of all those horrid 
things, and here seemed to be proof of 
just what he had said. If he had known 
that Lieutenant Faulkner wasn’t Paul I 
never could have explained it, and I 
should never have heard the last of it. 

“ So, in the middle of luncheon, here 
came Dan over to our table. Lieutenant 
Faulkner’s back was toward him. When 
Dan came up I had to introduce them — 
I just had to — but I didn’t introduce 
Lieutenant Faulkner as my husband. 
No, really, auntie, I didn’t. I intro- 
duced him as the lieutenant , and, of 
course, if Dan wanted to jump at con- 
33 


The Simple Case of Susan 


elusions that was his business. I think 
he jumped — in fact, I know he jumped. 
It was dreadfully funny, really, and I 
would have laughed if I hadn’t been so 
scared. But even then it didn’t strike 
me as being so very serious, because 
Dan had said he was going away that 
afternoon to be gone for years and 
years, and he might never have known 
the difference. So, auntie, what could 
I have done? 

“Well, anyway, I hurried out with 
Lieutenant Faulkner, leaving Dan to fig- 
ure it out anyway he could. And now 
the worst is to come. I have just heard 
that Dan didn’t go away at all; that he 
is to stay here a few days because of 
something connected with the estate, 
and now he’ll be loose around New York 
with the idea in his mind that Lieuten- 
ant Faulkner is Paul, my husband, and 
I can’t disabuse him without admitting 
34 


The Simple Case of Susan 


the very things of which he has accused 
me. Isn’t it perfectly awful? If Dan 
and Paul ever meet — oh, auntie! 

“ When I realized the matter was this 
serious I cried, and suggested to Paul 
that he was dreadfully overworked or 
something, and that we really ought to 
go away for a couple of weeks so he 
could rest. He laughed at me, and I 
can’t go without him, because they might 
meet, anyway. 

“ Now, auntie, dear auntie, what shall 
I do ? Don’t take time to scold me — just 
tell me what I must do. 

“ Your loving, “ Sue.” 

“ P. S. Lieutenant Faulkner behaved 
like a brick. He’s a dear ! “ Sue.” 

“ N. B. My new Redfern is a perfect 
dream, auntie dear. With the dishpan 
hat it’s just too stunning for anything 

“ S.” 


35 


y 


[Letter from Mrs . J. Hildegarde Ste- 
vens , of Philadelphia , to Mrs . Paul 
Abercrombie Harwell Rowland , of New 
York.] 

“ At Home, Thursday. 

Y OU DEAR LITTLE GOOSE: 

“ Go instantly to your husband, to 
Dan Wilbur, and to Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner, and explain everything to them — 
everything. 

“ Your loving, 

“ Aunt Gardie.” 

(“ Why, I couldn’t do that to save my 
life ! ” said Susan.) 


VI 


C LEVERNESS in conversation 
doesn’t necessarily consist in the 
number of words used. Lieutenant 
Faulkner, U. S. A., was demonstrating 
this to Miss Marjorie Stanwood. He 
had met her ten minutes before, and al- 
ready knew the size of her glove, what 
flowers she preferred, and her plans for 
the next three months. He had discov- 
ered, too, that she was quite the most 
wonderful woman in the world ; that un- 
utterable things lay in the lambent eyes, 
and that she was born in April, the 
month of diamonds. 

On her side, Miss Stanwood knew that 
Lieutenant Faulkner was an officer in 
the United States Army, that he came 
of an old F. F. V., that he had seen serv- 
ice in the Philippines, that he adored 
37 


The Simple Case of Susan 


brown hair (her hair was brown), that 
he wouldn’t look the second time at any 
woman whose eyes were not dark brown 
(her eyes were dark brown), and that 
his ideal of physical perfection in wom- 
an would weigh one hundred and twenty- 
seven and a half pounds, and be five feet 
four and a half inches tall. Strangely 
enough, she weighed just one hundred 
and twenty-seven and a half pounds, and 
her height was precisely five feet four 
and a half inches. r 

So it may be seen they were progress- 
ing. And without the kindly offices of 
Susan, too. Fortunately, or unfortu- 
nately, it had not fallen to Susan’s lot 
to introduce them; in fact, Miss Stan- 
wood and Susan were unknown to each 
other. The stately Mrs. Wetmore just 
happened to be acquainted with both— 
Lieutenant Faulkner and Miss Stan- 
wood — and brought them together, quite 
38 


The Simple Case of Susan 


unconscious of the seething turbulence 
which lay behind the uniform of the 
army man. Ever since that blissful in- 
stant when they met they had been sit- 
ting together in a nook under the stairs 
in earnest conversation. 

“ You’re going to give me some dances, 
of course,” said Lieutenant Faulkner. 

“ Some dances? ” inquired Miss Stam 
wood. 

“ Yes, some, several, more than a 
few,” explained the unabashed lieuten- 
ant. “ Let me see your card.” 

She handed it over, and he examined 
it carefully. 

“I’ll take the second,” he remarked, 
“and the block of four, five, six, and 
seven, then the ninth and the 1 Home, 
Sweet Home.’ ” 

“ But that’s all I have left,” protested 
Miss Stanwood. 

“ Too bad,” commented the lieutenant. 

39 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ If I’d only met you a few minutes be- 
fore I might have had them all. Guess 
that’ll have to do, though.” 

“ But, Lieutenant, really I ” 

“ Say, I think I know this fellow Wig- 
gins who has the third dance,” inter- 
rupted the lieutenant. “ Maybe I could 
arrange it ” 

“ No,” exclaimed Miss Stanwood posi- 
tively. “ IBs perfectly ridiculous.” 

Suddenly she burst out laughing. 
Lieutenant Faulkner drew back and 
gazed at her in a sort of trance. It sug- 
gested rippling waters, and birds sing- 
ing, and the tinkling of silver bells, and 
— and — it was simply immense, that’s 
all ! When the little whirlwind of mer- 
riment had passed the lieutenant drew 
a deep sigh. 

“ Remember that night at the opera? ” 
he queried. 

“ What night? What opera? ” 

40 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ The night I saw yon first ? Yon were 
sitting in a box on the second tier.” 

“ I didn’t know yon had ever seen me,” 
remarked Miss Stanwood. “ When was 
it?” 

“ At the opera, that night I was 
there.” 

“Bnt what night? What opera was 
it?” 

Lieutenant Fanlkner stared at her 
blankly for an instant. 

“ I don’t remember,” he confessed. 
“ I don’t think I looked at the stage after 
I saw yon.” 

Miss Stanwood regarded him doubt- 
fully for a moment while the color 
tingled in her cheeks. 

“ Surely yon know the name of the 
opera,” she insisted. 

“ Oh, it was that thing with the devil 
in it ! ” 

Again Miss Stanwood laughed. It 
41 


The Simple Case of Susan 


was the seductive harmony of a wind- 
swept lute, the gurgling coo of a dove 
in a shady dell, the — the — Lieutenant 
Faulkner nervously mopped a feverish 
brow. 

“ 4 Faust/ ” she gasped at last. And 
the laugh died away. “ You saw me that 
night? What did you think of me? ” 

Lieutenant Faulkner started to tell 
her in detail, but changed his mind. 
Whether it was sudden timidity or lack 
of a sufficient supply of roseate adjec- 
tives, doesn’t appear. 

“ Stunning ! ” he declared at last, fer- 
vently. “ I knew your father, of course, 
by sight — seen his picture, you know, 
and all that — but I never knew he had 
a daughter — at least, such a daughter! 
The moment I did know it I began to 
look for some one who knew the daugh- 
ter, and ” 

He floundered helplessly and stopped. 

42 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Miss Stanwood was gazing at him in 
frank disapproval. 

“ Are all army officers like you? ” she 
demanded coldly. 

“No,” returned Lieutenant Faulkner 
readily. “ Far be it for me to shower 
bouquets upon myself, but I may say 
they are not all like me.” 

“ Really, you’re a very extraordinary 
young man.” 

“ Guess so,” he admitted with a grin. 
“ That’s what old Sore Toe said of me 
once.” 

“ Old Sore Toe? ” repeated Miss Stan- 
wood in amazement. “ Pray who is he, 
or what is it? ” 

“ Oh, of course, you don’t know,” the 
lieutenant apologized. “ Old Sore Toe — 
General Underwood, that’s his army 
name ; he always has the gout.” 

But Lieutenant Faulkner didn’t tell 
her why that distinguished soldier and 
4 43 


The Simple Case of Susan 


disciplinarian had said it, which showed 
that the lieutenant had some semblance 
of modesty, for the happening which 
evoked the comment was one of those 
desperate, dare-devil undertakings of 
guerilla warfare when the soldier must 
forget, for his country’s sake, the fact 
that life is of any particular value. 
These incidents are too rarely known to 
history. Lieutenant Faulkner was not 
the kind of man to write it there. 

Miss Stanwood sat silent for a little 
while. With a vague feeling of having 
offended her, the lieutenant picked up 
the dance card mutely and stared at it. 

“ Say,” he pleaded, “ won’t you please 
let me go shoo Wiggins off ? ” 

“ Certainly not,” replied Miss Stan- 
wood firmly, and just at that moment 
a partner appeared to claim her. 

Lieutenant Faulkner wandered away 
disconsolately and chanced upon Dan 
44 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Wilbur. It occurred to him that some- 
thing beyond a nod was necessary, 
but just what it was he couldn’t de- 
termine. So he nodded; that was safe, 
anyway. 

“Where is Mrs. Rowland?” inquired 
Mr. Wilbur. 

“ Couldn’t tell you,” replied the lieu- 
tenant hastily. And that seemed safe. 

He hurried on, glad of an opportunity 
to leave Mr. Wilbur alone. Mr. Wilbur 
stared after him a moment curiously. 
The lieutenant found Susan over near 
the door. 

“ Saw that Wilbur chap back there,” 
he remarked inconsequentially. 

“ Here ? ” exclaimed Susan, and a 
startled expression drove the color from 
her face. “Oh!” 

She stood with downcast eyes. The 
lieutenant chose to read her attitude as 
something more than trivial perturba- 
45 


The Simple Case of Susan 


tion; there was apprehension in it, a 
haunting fear, even. 

“ Of course, Sue,” he said uneasily, 
“ if there’s anything I can do for you so 
far as this chap Wilbur is concerned, 
all you have to do is to say so 1 ” 

“No, no,” Susan explained hastily. 
“It’s nothing that he’s to blame for. 
It’s something that I — that I — it’s so 
hard to explain to anyone. I carit ex- 
plain it.” 

“ I don’t want you to,” replied the lieu- 
tenant sturdily. “I won’t let you try. 
It’s none of my business. It’s simply if 
Wilbur is offensive to you I’ll go tell 
him so.” 

Two limpid blue eyes were raised to 
the lieutenant’s face gravely. There was 
no trace of a smile now about the taunt- 
ing lips. 

“ Faulk, you’ve known me for a long 
time, haven’t you ? ” 


46 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“Yes,” he replied. 

“Well, believe in me — don’t quit be- 
lieving in me. I can’t explain — I won’t 
attempt it. But really it’s funny, it’s 
awfully funny ! ” 

And without any apparent reason, 
Susan burst out laughing. Lieutenant 
Faulkner stood staring at her blankly. 


VII 


M ISS STANWOOD and Mr. Wil- 
bur were chatting. 

“ Don’t you think the army dress uni- 
form is entirely too elaborate ? ” she in- 
quired casually. 

Mr. Wilbur turned and glanced at 
Lieutenant Faulkner and Susan as they 
swept down the room together to the 
strains of a Strauss waltz. 

“Well, their wives encourage it in 
them, I imagine,” Mr. Wilbur remarked 
lightly. “ See the worried expression 
on her face ? She probably thinks there 
isn’t enough gold lace.” 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Miss Stanwood. 
Then, after a moment : “ Is that his wife 
dancing with him? ” 

“ Yes. Splendid couple, isn’t it? ” 
When we go above a certain strata in 
48 


The Simple Case of Susan 


social geology we find people who don’t 
exhibit their emotions, but swallow 
them. Miss Stanwood lived in this clari- 
fied, rarefied atmosphere. 

“ She’s beautiful ! ” she remarked at 
last. 

“I dare say,” Mr. Wilbur admitted 
listlessly. 

Miss Stanwood glanced at him. Some- 
thing in his tone caused her to look at 
him; something in his eyes caused her 
to look away again, and the red blood 
rushed to her cheeks. Five minutes 
later, in the same little nook under the 
stairs, Miss Stanwood tore her dance 
card into fragments. Then she went 
home and cried. Just like a girl! 


VIII 


G eneral underwood was not 

the sort of a soldier who looked 
well at a function, but in the chaste, un- 
ostentatious uniform which he effected 
in action — i. e., shirt open at the throat, 
trousers, field glasses, and sword — he 
was to be reckoned among those present. 
He couldn’t murmur a compliment into a 
lady’s ear, but he could roar like a mad 
bull in the field, and every man who 
heard him dodged. His rank had not 
been handed to him upon a golden plat- 
ter; he won it a trio of decades ago 
fighting Indians, and when need of some- 
thing more than a lay figure for epau- 
lets arose in the Philippines, General 
Underwood was shunted out there as a 
matter of course. He left an indelible 
imprint on the plains and sierras, and 
50 


The Simple Case of Susan 


on the islands of the blue Pacific. To 
this day the wily red man cherishes tra- 
ditions of the Great Voice; and Filipino 
mothers frighten their babes to sleep 
with stories of the mighty warrior, Much 
Noise. 

General Underwood was Lieutenant 
Faulkner’s master in the gentle art of 
war. Their first meeting, face to face 
and man to man, was an incident which 
both remembered. The general, with a 
fresh attack of gout, was hopping back 
and forth in front of service headquar- 
ters, cursing steadily, yet without haste 
or slovenliness, and pausing now and 
then to sum up results of a minor en- 
gagement through his glasses. A quar- 
ter of a mile off to his right, invisible 
in the tangled, tropical growth, lay a 
battery of light guns. The occasional 
flash and bang and hiss and roar of a 
shell was all there was to indicate the 
51 


The Simple Case of Susan 


position of the battery. The objective 
point of fire was a Filipino stronghold 
which nestled in a pleasant valley below. 

“ Who’s in command of that bat- 
tery?” demanded General Underwood 
of an aide. 

“ Lieutenant Faulkner, sir.” 

“ Bring him here.” 

And after a while Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner appeared. At that time he was a 
slender, boyish chap of twenty-two or 
so, and spick and span as a new silk hat. 
The grizzled old Indian fighter scowled 
at him. 

“ Are you a soldier? ” he bellowed sud- 
denly. 

“I hope so, sir,” replied Lieutenant 
Faulkner coldly. 

“ West Point? ” It was a sneer. 

“ Yes, sir.” And that was a boast. 

“Well, where the hell do you think 
you are? At a tea party? ” 

52 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Lieutenant Faulkner flushed, but 
didn’t say. 

“I suppose you think this is some 
pleasant little diversion arranged espe- 
cially for your afternoon’s amusement,” 
General Underwood went on. “ Well, it 
isn’t, sir. We’re fighting, and we’re 
fighting for that.” By a gesture he indi- 
cated the Stars and Stripes which flut- 
tered and whipped above them. “ You’ve 
a battery of four guns over there and 
you haven’t fired a dozen shots in an 
hour. The order was to smash that clus- 
ter of huts. Now go back and do it, sir. 
Give ’em volleys, sir ; pile shells on ’em ; 
smother ’em; don’t leave one stick on 
top of another. . That’s all.” 

“ Very well, sir.” And Lieutenant 
Faulkner returned to his post. 

Three hours later he reappeared be- 
fore General Underwood and stood at 
attention. The commanding officer 
53 


The Simple Case of Susan 


glared at him ; the slender, boyish figure 
was immaculate as ever. 

“ Well? ” growled General Underwood. 

“ I should like to borrow a company of 
infantry, sir,” replied the lieutenant. 

“ Company of infantry? What for? ” 

“ To shovel off two or three layers of 
shells, and see if one stick is still left on 
top of another,” replied Lieutenant 
Faulkner steadily. “And, meanwhile, 
here’s an army manual which gives the 
proper form of address between gentle- 
men . You might find it useful.” 

General Underwood glared straight 
into the imperturbable eyes of the 
youngster for a moment, with slowly ris- 
ing color. He started to say something 
violent, but changed his mind. 

“ It teaches the common or garden va- 
riety of etiquette,” supplemented the 
lieutenant coldly. 

General Underwood turned and en- 
54 


The Simple Case of Susan 


tered his tent. A few minutes later he 
reappeared; Lieutenant Faulkner still 
stood as he had left him. The elder 
man went over and laid one hand on his 
shoulder. 

“You and I were educated in differ- 
ent schools,” he said slowly. “ Mine 
taught action, yours action according to 
a standard. Both are good. But if you 
intend to stick to the army, my boy, you 
must learn the value of quantity. Shoot 
straight, but shoot often, too. If one 
shot is good, two shots are better, three 
are better still. It’s a rule which applies 
to all things. Remember it.” 

And so 

At ten o’clock on the morning follow- 
ing the Sanger ball, Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner sent a box of violets to Miss Mar- 
jorie Stanwood; at noon he sent a box 
of roses ; at two o’clock he sent a box of 
55 


The Simple Case of Susan 


carnations ; and at four he called in per- 
son. It was a fusillade. An austere 
servant took his card and disappeared. 

“ Miss Stanwood is not in,” the ser- 
vant returned to say. 

The clear eyes of the army man stud- 
ied the stolid, melancholy face intently 
for an instant. 

“Not in, or — not in?” he inquired. 
There was a difference as he said it. 

“ Miss Stanwood is not in,” repeated 
the servant. There was no difference 
as he said it. 

Lieutenant Faulkner went down the 
steps with thoughtfully squinting eyes, 
and the door closed behind him. He 
paused irresolutely at the comer and 
glanced back at the white marble facade 
of the palace he had just left. Phew ! 
What a home! It awed him a little as 
he looked. Eighteen hundred a year, 
and she lived in that ! For the first time 
56 


The Simple Case of Susan 


in his life, perhaps, Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner was aroused to a full appreciation 
of his own splendid nerve. 

He was just starting to go about his 
business when he saw a young man start 
up the front steps of the palace. Dan 
Wilbur ! Of course ! 

“ Now something tells me that he isn’t 
going in there to call on father,” solilo- 
quized the lieutenant grimly. “ We’ll 
just see what happens.” 

Mr. Wilbur disappeared inside. Of 
course Lieutenant Faulkner wouldn’t 
have allowed anything like vulgar curi- 
osity to anchor him on that corner for 
five minutes, but you understand there 
was a chance that Mr. Wilbur would be 
right out again, and in that event they 
might stroll down the street together. 
No ; on second thoughts he couldn’t have 
anything to say to Mr. Wilbur, because 
— because — well, anyway he waited. 

57 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Ten minutes or so passed, then a pair 
of heavily embroidered wrought iron 
gates adjoining the palace swung in- 
ward, and a huge touring car emerged. 
It edged along the curb and stopped at 
the steps. Lieutenant Faulkner watched 
it with singular misgivings. The palace 
door yawned, and gave up — Marjorie 
Stan wood. Of course ! He knew it ! He 
stood staring, staring dumbly, while a 
queer sense of hunger crept over him. 
It was the sort of feeling he used to have 
when he stood around on one foot watch- 
ing mother make pies. 

Marjorie didn’t walk down the steps, 
she floated down, a radiant shimmery 
creature in some champagney looking 
stuff. She paused on the bottom step 
and smiled up into the face of — yes, it 
was Dan Wilbur. He said something 
and she laughed outright with a charm- 
ing back-tilt of her head. Then Mr. Wil- 
58 


The Simple Case of Susan 


bur handed her into the automobile, 
stepped in beside her, and closed the 
door behind him. The car whirred and 
swung wide to turn. 

Suddenly Lieutenant Faulkner awoke 
to a realization of the fact that he was 
— well, a small boy would have called 
it “ rubbering/’ The car was turn- 
ing toward the spot where he stood. 
He took three backward steps, and 
there, screened by the jutting building, 
straightened his tie, braced himself, and 
turned the comer with the utmost care- 
lessness just as the car glided by slowly. 

He met Miss Stanwood’s eyes fairly, 
smiled, and lifted his cap. She did not 
even take the trouble to avert her gaze, 
merely regarded him for a moment with 
a steady stare that sent the blood to his 
face, then turned and looked the other 
way. The car passed on. 


5 


IX 



IEUTENANT FAULKNER called 


-L^ on Susan. He found her with red- 
dened, tear-stained eyes, and altogether 
in a charming state of unhappiness. 
She welcomed him with something like 
tragic enthusiasm, then went over and 
hid her face in a pillow and wept shame- 
lessly. He sat down glumly, despond- 
ently, and looked at her. Nothing was 
of any consequence any more. 

“What’s the matter, Sue?” he asked 
dutifully after a time. 

“ 0 Faulk ! ” she wailed, “ you can’t 
imagine — you simply can’t imagine — 
what has happened to me.” 

“ Well, whatever it is it isn’t a marker 
to what has happened to me,” he re- 
turned solemnly. 

The frightful disaster which had over- 


60 


The Simple Case of Susan 


taken Susan was easily explained. She 
had been constrained to decline a din- 
ner invitation because Dan Wilbur was 
to be one of the guests. Now she scented 
some new horror in Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner’s statement, and sat up straight in 
sudden alarm. 

“You have seen Dan Wilbur!” she 
declared tragically. 

“ I have,” returned the lieutenant 
hopelessly. 

“ Oh-h-h ! ” exclaimed Susan, only it 
was longer than that. “ I knew it would 
come. I knew it ! ” 

The lieutenant regarded her with a 
mild surprise which almost amounted to 
interest. 

“ Knew what would come ? ” he in- 
quired. 

“Didn’t he tell you?” she demanded 
breathlessly. 

“ I didn’t talk with him,” explained the 
61 


The Simple Case of Susan 


lieutenant. “I merely saw him. That 
was enough for me.” 

Susan regarded him dully for a mo- 
ment, then laughed a hysterical, high- 
pitched laugh that startled the lieuten- 
ant a little. 

“What are you talking about, Faulk?” 
she asked, after a moment. 

Lieutenant Faulkner leaned back in 
his chair, clasped both hands about one 
knee, and stared at Susan thoughtfully. 

“ Sue,” he asked slowly, after a pause, 
“you’ve always found me a fair speci- 
men of a self-respecting white man, 
haven’t you? ” 

“Of course, yes.” 

“An individual who possesses a cer- 
tain outward semblance of a decent gen- 
tleman? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You never saw me eat soup with a 
fork? ” 


62 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Susan nearly smiled. 

“ No,” she replied. 

“ Or wear tan shoes with evening 
dress? ” 

“ No, of course not. “ What ■’? ” 

“ Or a silk hat with a sack coat? ” 

“ Certainly not,” Susan answered im- 
patiently. “ What are you talking 
about? ” 

“ On the whole, what do you think of 
me?” 

The lieutenant was rocking back and 
forth slowly with his eyes fixed on Su- 
san’s face. He was perfectly serious 
about it; he wanted to know. 

“ I think,” replied Susan, and she re- 
membered a little scene in Sherry’s a 
day or so before, “ I think you are just 
splendid ! ” 

Lieutenant Faulkner was too much 
preoccupied to blush. 

“ You don’t feel it necessary to lock up 
63 


The Simple Case of Susan 


the silver when I call, do you? ” he pur- 
sued. 

Susan laughed outright. 

“ Well, why should a person to whom 
I have been formally introduced — whom 
I have met on her own level — cut me 
dead, as if I were a doormat thief ? ” in- 
quired the lieutenant. 

“Cut you?” repeated Susan, aghast. 

“ I looked straight into the eyes of the 
only woman I ever loved — at least, one 
of the only women I ever loved — and it 
was like a trip to the North Pole,” he 
explained. “ She simply looked at me, 
and I wasn’t there. It was precisely as 
if she were gazing out of an open win- 
dow.” 

“You mean Miss Stanwood?” Susan 
inquired, as a matter of fact. 

“I mean Marjorie,” replied the lieu- 
tenant. It was such a delicious, mouth- 
filling name. “I told you last night 
64 


The Simple Case of Susan 


about meeting her, and taking all her 
left-over dances, and how she went home 
suddenly, and I didn’t get any of them. 
Well, I called this afternoon. She 
wasn’t i in.’ I took that as a formal way 
of telling me she was not receiving, and 
rather imagined she was ill — from her 
sudden disappearance last night. Ten 
minutes later she came out and got into 
an automobile. I saluted her — it was 
like making overtures to an ice-cream 
freezer.” There was a pause. “Dan 
Wilbur was with her.” 

“ Dan Wilbur ! ” Susan’s own pri- 
vate, individual troubles came rushing 
back upon her, and she put her head in 
the pillow again. After a little while 
she straightened up with the air of a 
martyr. “ Are you sure she saw you? ” 

“ Saw me f ” exclaimed the lieutenant. 
“ When you hold both handles of a bat- 
tery you know when the electricity is on, 
65 


The Simple Case of Susan 


don’t you? Well, the electricity was on. 
Now, why? ” 

“ She might not have recognized you,” 
Susan ventured. 

“ I don’t want to boast, Sue, but she’ll 
never forget me.” 

There was a long, long pause. 

“ There is always one answer, of 
course,” Susan said at last sympathet- 
ically. “ That is, that she doesn’t care 
to continue the acquaintance.” 

“ Acquaintance ! ” repeated the lieu- 
tenant. “ Why, Sue, we’re friends — 
old friends. Why I’ve known Marjorie 
Stanwood since — since ’way last night 
about nine o’clock.” He passed one hand 
across a troubled brow. “ Sue, you 
were not present at the preliminaries,” 
he added reproachfully. “It was the 
prettiest get away you ever saw.” 

Again there was silence. Susan arose 
and rearranged some flowers in a spin- 
66 


The Simple Case of Susan 


dle-legged vase, then sat down again. 
Lieutenant Faulkner continued to stare 
at her musingly. 

“ It’s the money, I suppose,” he said 
slowly after a time. “ Funny what it 
does, isn’t it? Great-grandfather is 
hanged for stealing sheep; grandfather 
discovers how to make a fairly good sort 
of axle grease out of the sheep scraps, 
and gets rich doing it; which makes fa- 
ther the millionaire axle-grease and but- 
ter king. Then son comes along and 
converts the whole shooting match, from 
claws to feathers, into imported olive 
oil, and rigs up a family tree to suit 
himself. Grandson is so superior he 
won’t look at anybody on the same 
planet. Money does it. Isn’t it — isn’t 
it filthy? ” 

Susan was regarding him with a lit- 
tle perplexed pucker on her white brow. 
With variations she knew a dozen fam- 
67 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ilies to whom the simile generally ap- 
plied, although it would never have oc- 
curred to her in just that light. 

“I suppose if Stanwood knew I was 
in love with his daughter,” the lieuten- 
ant continued, “and that my income 
was eighteen hundred a year — not a 
minute, like his — he’d froth at the mouth 
and get out an injunction.” 

Susan thoughtfully plucked a flower 
and thrust it into her shimmering 
hair. The bottomless eyes were fixed 
unseeingly on one of the lieutenant’s 
epaulets. 

“ And yet Marjorie — Marjorie,” he 
rolled the word under his tongue, “ Mar- 
jorie isn’t that kind of a girl. She was as 
simple and unaffected and ingenuous as 
— why, Sue, you ought to have met her. 
And when she laughed ! ” The lieuten- 
ant arose suddenly and strode back and 
forth across the room. “ Why, hang it, 
68 


The Simple Case of Susan 


she isn’t that kind of a girl,” he declared 
stoutly. “ You can’t imagine her stick- 
ing her nose into the air just because 
father has money. And far be it from 
me to say anything about father, but 
if he got it like the muckrakers say 
he did, he ought to go dig a hole and 
bury it.” 

“ Well, of course my father — ” Susan 
began defensively. 

“ Oh, your father,” the lieutenant cut 
in ungraciously. “ His money is in and 
came out of real estate. I’m talking 
about those chaps who made their money 
last Thursday or Friday by grinding 
down the affluent widows and taking 
it away from indiscreet orphans.” He 
was silent a moment. “I know that 
Marjorie isn’t that kind, and if she isn’t 
— what’s the answer?” 

He sat down and stared gloomily out 
of the window. 


69 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“Pm sorry for you, Faulk,” Susan 

sympathized finally. “ I know ” 

“ Sorry for me? What for? ” 

“Of course,” Susan hurried on tact- 
fully, “ Miss Stanwood is heiress to 
millions, and she meets a great many 
men with whom it is not desirable 
to — to — oh, you know what I mean, 
Faulk? Practically any man she comes 
across would marry her for her money 
if nothing else, and so — ” She broke 
off and waved her hands comprehen- 
sively. 

The lieutenant stared at her coldly, 
and the pupils of his eyes contracted to 
pin points. 

“ Money has never meant anything to 
me, Sue,” he said deliberately. “ I 
wouldn’t be in the army if it did. There’s 
nothing in it financially, even at the top, 
and I could cut loose and go into busi- 
ness. But this is a man’s life, a clean, 
70 


The Simple Case of Susan 


active, wholesome existence with the 
sort of work I like, and an opportunity 
to do things. I’m going to stick to it.” 
He rolled a cigarette; Susan nodded 
and he lighted it. “ Of course I don’t 
know what Marjorie will have to say 
about it,” he went on slowly, “but she 
is going to be Mrs. Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner. Sale? ” 

Susan smiled a little and shrugged her 
shoulders. 

“ I imagine that Papa Stanwood will 
be overjoyed when he hears it,” the 
lieutenant went on. “ It may even be a 
cue for him to put the screws on the 
widows and orphans again. As a mat- 
ter of fact, he can take his money and 
go start a fire with it if he likes; Mar- 
jorie is the girl for me. I’ll take her in 
spite of her money.” 

“You speak as if you knew that she 
loved you,” remarked Susan. 

71 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“Love me?” repeated the lieutenant. 
“ She can’t help it. I’m just crazy about 
her.” 

Susan waved her hands; the matter 
was beyond her. 

“ And this right on top of the cut di- 
rect,” she commented. “ Why, she has 
shut the gate on you in the very begin- 
ning.” 

“ There’s something behind that cut 
direct,” mused Lieutenant Faulkner. 
“ I don’t know what it is, but it does- 
n’t matter. And so far as shutting the 
gate — I’ll climb over that, and tunnel 
under the dungeon, and shin up the 
lightning rod, and break down the 
barriers, and scale the walls, and swim 
the moat, and all the other usual 
things. Sue, she’s mine, I tell you. 
It’s my first choose, and I choose Mar- 
jorie. I guess you never saw me in 
action? ” 


72 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Susan didn’t say anything else. 
There didn’t seem to be anything left to 
say. She herself had had some experi- 
ence with a bull-headed army man, and 
the result was that now she was Mrs. 
Paul Abercrombie Harwell Rowland, 
and perfectly delighted every time she 
remembered it. 

“ Now, of course, you’ll have to help,” 
continued Lieutenant Faulkner, as a 
matter of course. He arose and paced 
back and forth across the room to plan 
the campaign. 

“Help?” gasped Susan. “How?” 

“ Well, for instance, the first thing to 
do,” he told her in his most businesslike 
manner, “ is to get to Marjorie. You’ll 
have to call on her.” 

“ But I don’t know her,” Susan pro- 
tested. “I’ve never met her. I never 
even saw her but once.” 

“ Pooh ! Pooh ! ” Lieutenant Faulk- 

73 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ner blew away this objection with one 
breath. “ There are a thousand ways 
for you to get to her, that I couldn’t 
use. Just call — er — you know how — er — 
er — just call.” He paused helplessly. 
“ I’ll tell you,” he went on suddenly, 
“ get her interested in a charity or some- 
thing, and — and you know, I — I — well, 
just sort of mention me, and later on 
I’ll just casually appear, and — and, you 
know.” 

“Why, Faulk!” Susan reproved. 
“ It’s entirely out of the question. I — I 
— why, I can’t.” 

“ Ah, help a chap just this once, won’t 
you?” he pleaded. “That’s the way 
with people when they get married. 
They never want to give another fel- 
low a helping hand; just sit back and 
grin at him and let him fight it out the 
best way he can. Just this once ! ” 

Susan drew a long sigh of resigna- 

74 


The Simple Case of Susan 


tion; Faulk was such a charming boy 
after all. 

“Til do what I can,” she said. It 
was a promise. 

“ That’s the girl,” and the lieutenant 
shook her hand heartily. “And now, 
of course, we’ve got to find out just 
where Wilbur is in this game. If he is 
interested in Marjorie he loses.” 

“ Dan Wilbur ! ” Susan repeated, and 
suddenly there was a little catch in her 
voice. Temporarily she had lost sight 
of her own affairs. Her eyes dropped 
from Faulkner’s eager face, and she 
was silent. 

“ Sue, what is this Wilbur thing, any- 
how? ” Faulkner asked gently. He took 
hold of her hand again. 

“Nothing, Faulk, nothing,” and still 
she looked down. 

There was a long, embarrassing 
pause. 


6 


75 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Look at me, Sue,” lie commanded. 

She raised her eyes shyly — moist, 
limpid eyes — and met the grave stare 
of the army man for one long minute 
without flinching. He drew a long 
breath and brushed back from her brow 
a vagrant wisp of gold. 

“ If there’s anything the matter? ” he 
suggested questioningly. “ If I can help 
anyway? If you’ve made any mis- 
take? ” 

She shook her head. 

“ Hadn’t you better tell me? ” he per- 
sisted. 

“ Tell you ! ” and Susan’s red lips 
trembled into a smile. “Why, Faulk, 
you’re the one man in the world that I 
couldn't tell! And it’s nothing, really 
— a little matter of principle with me. 
Don’t think anything else.” 

“ Does Paul know ? ” he queried. 

“ And he’s the other man in the 
76 


The Simple Case of Susan 


world that I couldn’t tell,” Susan com- 
plained. 

Her eyes filled and slowly her head 
sank forward. Faulkner felt her fingers 
close suddenly on his own, and then a 
teardrop wet his hand. 


X 


ND Dan Wilbur called on Susan, 
ii too. At sight of him she shud- 
dered twice — once for the catastrophe 
which would have been precipitated had 
he walked in ten minutes previously 
and found Lieutenant Faulkner; and 
once for the unspeakable disaster now 
impending, for Paul was due home in 
half an hour from that everlasting Army 
and Navy Building, and — and 

“ For goodness sake, Dan Wilbur, 
aren’t you ever going away?” she de- 
manded by way of greeting. 

“Why?” he inquired languidly. 
“ Does my staying in New York annoy 
you? ” 

“ Oh, not that, of course,” Susan has- 
tened to say. “But — but I understood 
78 


The Simple Case of Susan 


you were going, and it surprises me to 
see you hanging about this dull, 
wretched old town when — oh, you 
know ! ” she concluded helplessly. She 
glanced at the clock — 5.35. 

“Surely you don’t find it dull? A 
woman like you ? ” 

“ Why, Dan, I’m positively unhappy,” 
she replied, truthfully enough. “ There’s 
nowhere to go, no one to see, nothing 
to amuse one, nothing to interest one- 
self in — just this same old eternal sixes 
and sevens.” 

“ Well, if everything is as dull as all 
that I have some good news for you,” 
said Mr. Wilbur graciously. 

Susan gulped hard. 

“WTiat is it?” she demanded sus- 
piciously. 

“ Well, for one thing, I’ve decided to 
stay here, and ” 

Susan nearly fainted. 

79 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“Stay in New York!” she gasped 
tragically. 

“Yes, and I’ll undertake to furnish 
something to interest you, too — as 

pretty a little romance as you ” 

“ 0 Dan, Dan ! ” Susan interrupted 
wailingly. “ Give up that beautiful trip 
around the world for — for — just to stay 
here in prosaic old New York?” she 
added diplomatically. 

“It is a splendid trip,” he agreed, 

“ jolly, too, but you see ” 

“ Beautiful ! ” Susan rushed on enthu- 
siastically. “ Think of it ! The Philip- 
pines! and Japan! and China! It must 
be glorious out there where the — er — 
er — and all those other places.” Why 
couldn’t she remember them? 

“ But you see,” Mr. Wilbur ex- 
plained, “Pve just been on the trip 
once. And, now, Sue,” his voice 
dropped confidentially, “ New York has 
80 


The Simple Case of Susan 


a new attraction for me, and if things go 
as I wish I shall remain here, for sev- 
eral months at least.” 

Susan collapsed hopelessly into a 
chair and glanced at the clock. 

“ Another love affair, of course,” she 
remarked. 

“ Another ! ” and Mr. Wilbur smiled 
that same superior sort of a smile that 
had hounded her into this mess in the 
first place. “ No, not another. It’s the 
first — the first time I’ve ever really 
loved a woman, and -” 

“Why, Dan Wilbur, I’ll ask you to 
remember, please, that you proposed to 
me four times,” she interrupted indig- 
nantly. “ And if I’m not mistaken you 
used that same phrase. You might at 
least have changed the words around 
some.” 

It was Mr. Wilbur’s turn to blush; 
he did it languidly. 

81 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ The proposals to me were merely for 
amusement, I suppose?” Susan went 
on mercilessly. u 0r was it practice?” 

“ But, Great Scott, Sue,” Mr. Wil- 
bur burst out eloquently, “this is seri- 
ous ! ” 

“ And the others weren’t,” Susan 
added. “ I suspected as much. Who is 
it, please?” 

“Well, I’ve known her for several 
years,” Mr. Wilbur explained with ex- 
asperating deliberation. “ She was a 
slender little debutante three years ago, 
but now ” 

“ Skinny, you mean. All debutantes 
are. Go on.” 

“But, now, she’s the most stunning 
— er — er — I saw her at the Sanger ball 
last night, and she simply knocked my 
eye out, that’s all. Beautiful, charming, 
and all that, you know.” 

“ Of course,” Susan agreed impatient- 
82 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ly, and she glanced ostentatiously at the 
clock. “Goodness, isn’t it late? Who 
is she ? ” 

“ Miss Stanwood — Marjorie Stan- 
wood. Do you know her? ” 

“ Marj — Miss Stan — ! ” and Susan’s 
surprise ended in speechlessness. 

Mr. Wilbur regarded her anxiously. 

“Am I to take this merely as aston- 
ishment, or — or pleasure — or — what?” 
he inquired. 

“ Marjorie Stanwood ! ” Susan re- 
peated, and then she laughed nervously. 
The hands of the clock were fairly spin- 
ning around — 5.41. “Dan, really, you 
must drop in again some time and tell 
me all about it,” she urged. 

“ That’s just what I came in to do 
now,” said Mr. Wilbur, without mov- 
ing. “ I’ve simply got to talk about it, 
that’s all. I can’t hold it any more, and 
— and I haven’t told her yet, of course, 
83 


The Simple Case of Susan 


so — Say, you and your husband must 
come along out to dinner with me, and 
we’ll talk it over.” 

“No!” It was the nearest thing to 
a shriek that Susan was ever guilty of; 
she was on her feet instantly. “ No, no, 
Dan. Really, we couldn’t accept your 
invitation ; no, not to-day, or — ” and she 
stopped. 

“Why not?” demanded Mr. Wilbur 
stolidly. “ I’d rather like a chance to 
get better acquainted with your hus- 
band. You know I’ve never had an op- 
portunity of saying more than a word 
to him. It occurred to me that later on 
you two and Miss Stanwood might all 
have dinner with me some evening. 
She’s charming.” 

“ It’s sweet of you, Dan, awfully sweet 
of you,” said Susan, and she chose that 
Mr. Wilbur should read some vague, 
secret sorrow in her tone; “but you — 
84 


The Simple Case of Susan 


you don’t know Paul,” which was true, 
“ and — and — why, Dan, if he should 
come into this room now and find you 
here you simply can’t imagine what a 
painful scene it would be for me,” 
which was also true. “ You don’t un- 
derstand, Dan,” and that was true, 
too. 

The listlessness passed out of Mr. 
Wilbur’s eyes; he was genuinely sur- 
prised. 

“ Why, Sue, my dear girl ! ” he ex- 
claimed, and there was an indignant 
note of sympathy in his voice. “ Whom 
did you marry ? An ogre ? ” 

Susan smiled sadly and shot a furtive 
glance at the clock — 5.44. 

“ Don’t ask me, Dan, don’t ask me! 
You know how gay and happy I’ve been 
all my life.” He did. “ I try to be the 
same now. It seems to have been my lot 
to marry Paul, and I am content.” And 
85 


The Simple Case of Susan 


that was true. “ But see how late it is, 
Dan.” 

There was an irresistible note of 
pleading in her voice, a wistfulness in 
the bottomless blue eyes, entreaty in her 
every movement. Mr. Wilbur arose, a 
little dazed. 

“ So he is that sort of a chap, is he ? ” 
he inquired, and it was not a compli- 
ment. “ I wondered. He seemed rather 
odd. You know the day I met him at 
Sherry’s he impressed me strangely, 
and I’ve seen him once or twice since.” 
He was silent a moment ; the clock said 
5.47. “ Sue, how do you tolerate such 
a man ? ” he demanded. 

“ Sh-h-h-h ! ” and Susan raised one 
charming finger to her red, red lips. 
“ He will be here in five minutes or so. 
It will be far best if he doesn’t see you 
here; perhaps best that you don’t call 
again. You understand. I can’t help it, 
86 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Dan,” she added desperately. “ For- 
give me ! ” 

“Pm sorry, Sue,” said Mr. Wilbur 
earnestly. “ Pm sorry.” 

Mr. Wilbur gathered up the frag- 
ments of a shattered delusion and bore 
them down the stairs. And this was the 
burden Sue’s devotion had won! This 
was the thing she was struggling un- 
der! And all this was hidden beneath 
the charming, careless exterior! Poor 
little girl! A man had to take his life 
in his hands when he got married ! And 
a woman, too ! Which reminded him of 
Miss Stanwood! 

As Mr. Wilbur passed down the front 
steps of the huge apartment house into 
the street he met another man coming 
in, a black-mustached, businesslike in- 
dividual, a lieutenant in the United 
States Army by his uniform. He was 
square and soldierly from the tips of 
87 


The Simple Case of Susan 


his boots to the top of his black head, 
with a keen, determined face, and 
shrewd penetrating eyes, which were 
softened tremendously by quizzical lines 
about the mouth. Mr. Wilbur noticed 
the army man merely because he had 
been discussing an army man, and the 
uniform attracted his attention. 

Still musing, he walked across to the 
Waldorf garage to get a car for a short 
spin through the park before he sat 
down to a lonely dinner. It just hap- 
pened that when he entered the office 
of the garage the single attendant there 
was in conversation with another man 
— a lieutenant in the United States 
Army by his uniform. 

“ I want a car that’ll move,” the uni- 
formed man was saying, “ something 
that’ll leave a scorched odor behind it, 
and a chauffeur who won’t mind the 
smell.” 


88 


The Simple Case of Susan 


The attendant smiled politely. 

“How long will you want it, sir?” 

“ Three or four hours — maybe all 
night — I don’t know,” was the reply. 
“ I’m going up Tarrytown way to din- 
ner, and I’m liable to tear the top 
soil off the whole state before I get 
back.” 

“ Well, we have a six-cylinder run- 
about in now,” said the attendant. 
“ There’s just enough room for you and 
the chauffeur.” 

“ That’ll do,” commented the army 
man. 

“ And if there’s any fine, of 
course — f” suggested the attendant. 

“ It’s on me. I understand.” 

The attendant spoke over the uni- 
formed man’s shoulder to Mr. Wilbur. 

“ In just a moment, sir.” 

The uniformed man glanced back. It 
was Lieutenant Faulkner. 

89 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Good-evening,” said Mr. Wilbur. 

“ Hello ! ” returned the lieutenant, 
and he followed the attendant out. 

Mr. Wilbur went away and sat down 
in a cafe and held his head. 


XI 


[Letter from Mrs. Paul Abercrombie 
Harwell Rowland , of New York, to Mrs. 
J. Hildegarde Stevens, of Philadelphia .] 


“ At Home, Friday. 

M y DEAR, DEAR AUNT GARDIE *. 

“I just can’t, that’s all. I’ve 
tried and tried and tried. It just won’t 
come. Every time I look at Lieutenant 
Faulkner or Dan Wilbur or Paul, I’m 
sure I’m going to die of mortification. 
I’m in such a nervous, scary condition 
that if either of them said ‘ Boo ’ to 
me, I know I’d die. And as for telling 
either of them! Auntie, dear auntie, I 
can’t. And things are getting worse 
every moment, because Dan Wilbur 
isn’t ever going around the world any 
more — he’s staying here. 

7 91 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Lieutenant Faulkner was here this 
afternoon. He knows Pm terribly wor- 
ried about something, and like the dear, 
good fellow he is, he wants to help ; but 
he doesn’t dream what it is. If he 
should suddenly find out! He gave me 
every opportunity to tell him, and be- 
lieve me, auntie, I tried. I had it on 
the tip of my tongue a dozen times, and 
every time it stuck right there. It 
wouldn’t come out. Just think of say- 
ing to him casually : ‘ I made Dan Wil- 
bur believe you were my husband. Ha, 
ha, ha ! ’ Isn’t it awful ? And if I 
should try to lead up to it, it would 
make it seem more important than I 
should want him to think I think it, so 
there. Auntie, dear, imagine yourself 
picking out the very nicest young man 
of your acquaintance, and saying such 
a thing to him! Or explaining it to 
Uncle Steve ! 


92 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ And Dan Wilbnr was here, too. He 
just missed Lieutenant Faulkner as he 
came in, and just missed Paul as he went 
out. Br-r-r-r! I simply had to shoo 
him off to keep him from meeting Paul. 
He was for taking us out to dinner! 
Think of it! And I tried to tell him, 
too. Yes I did, auntie dear, and I 
couldn’t. Instead of that I went on and 
on trying to get him away, and I know 
he must think frightful things of Paul. 
But, really, it isn’t my fault, and I didn’t 
tell him an untruth, even a little one. 
I dare say Dan won’t ever come to see 
us any more. 

“ I was hysterical when Paul came in. 
Why he must have passed Dan in the 
hall. Think of thatl I just ran and 
threw my arms around his neck and 
cried on him terribly, Paul, I mean. 
Naturally he wanted to know what was 
the matter, and that frightened me more 
93 


The Simple Case of Susan 


than ever. I drew away from him and 
looked at him, and my conscience gave 
me such a fearful jab that I resolved 
to tell him then and there. 

“ ‘ Paul, you must know — ’ I started. 
And then I stammered and cried all 
over again, and he kissed me. Then, 
somehow, he got it into his head that I 
was crying because I was dissatisfied 
with a new gown that came to-day, and 
— well, I’m just letting him think so 
yet. I know I never will be brave 
enough to start it all over again. 

“But here’s a scheme; it just oc- 
curred to me. Now listen carefully: 

“ Lieutenant Faulkner is dreadfully 
in love with Marjorie Stanwood. Yes, 
the heiress — it’s the same one. Of 
course Faulk hasn’t a penny, but — Paul 
didn’t have a great deal. Faulk and I 
talked it over this afternoon, and he’s 
determined to have her, and he ought 
94 


The Simple Case of Susan 


to have her if he wants her. He’s fright- 
fully smitten, violent about it, you un- 
derstand. Dan Wilbur is in love with 
her, too, in a fishy sort of a way. Think 
of it! Those two men above all others 
on earth. That’s why Dan gave up his 
trip around the world; he’s going to 
stay here and try to win Miss Stan- 
wood. 

“ Well ! I believe, as they say in poli- 
tics, I can exercise a great deal of influ- 
ence in the affair in ways which would 
be too tedious to explain. I’m going to 
try to do it — help Lieutenant Faulkner. 
You see, if I help Faulk, and he wins, 
Miss Stanwood will send Dan Wilbur 
about his business, and the sooner 
Faulk wins the sooner she will send 
Dan Wilbur about his business. Do you 
see the point? Then Dan would go on 
around the world, as he planned, and 
everything would be all right. By the 
95 


The Simple Case of Susan 


time he got back everything would be 
so far away it would be a joke, anyway. 

“ Now, isn’t that a good scheme, if I 
can do it! And do you see how simple 
it would make it for me? I wouldn’t 
have to explain to anybody, and I could 
look all my friends in the face again 
without feeling that I must cry. I’m 
going to call on Miss Stanwood to- 
morrow, and start the ball rolling. 
What do you think of it, auntie, dear? 

“ Do write soon. 

“ Your loving, 

“ Sue. 

“ P. S. — It’s nearly midnight, and I’m 
writing this in my own room. Paul is 
in the next room, sound asleep and snor- 
ing ! Isn’t it unromantic to snore? 
Now I must run out and drop this in 
the mail chute. Good-night. 

“ Sue. 

96 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ N. B. — Marjorie Stanwood is really 
and truly stunning, but it wouldn’t do 
any good to let the men know I think it. 

“ S ” 

(And from that moment Dan Wilbur 
never had a chance, so far as Susan 
was concerned.) 


XII 


HE footman stood waiting. Miss 



X Marjorie Stanwood turned the 
card over thoughtfully and stared at the 
back. Then she read it again : “ Mrs. 
Paul Abercrombie Harwell Rowland.” 
The name seemed vaguely familiar; it 
was elusive. She couldn’t place it. Per- 
haps the Blue Book! Yes. “Mrs. Paul 
Abercrombie Harwell Rowland (nee 
Courtenay, Susan Isabel).” Sue Cour- 
tenay, of course! 

“ Tell Mrs. Rowland I’ll be down in a 
moment,” she instructed. 

And five minutes later she followed 
her message to the drawing-room. At 
the door she paused and stared — yes, 
positively stared. And then her eyes 
dropped to the card which she carried 
in her hand. Yes, the name was Row- 


98 


The Simple Case of Susan 


land — Mrs. Paul Abercrombie Harwell 
Rowland. Miss Stanwood came for- 
ward uncertainly with an unconscious 
uplift of her charming chin. 

“ I think you must have — I think there 
must be some mistake in the card I ” she 
remarked. “ Doubtless you sent me the 
wrong one. I understood it was Mrs. 
Rowland? ” 

“ I am Mrs. Rowland,” Susan ex- 
plained, with an inquiring slant of her 
brows. 

Miss Stanwood stopped still and 
stared at her again. There was no 
mistaking it — it was a stare. First 
there was uneasiness in it, then some- 
thing closely akin to bewilderment, 
after which came a wonderfully illu- 
minating smile, and Miss Stanwood 
impulsively extended both hands to her 
caller. 

“ How stupid of me ! ” she exclaimed. 

99 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ You were Miss Courtenay, weren’t 
you — the Sue Courtenay f ” 

And Susan was her friend for life. 

“ I had always wanted so much to see 
you,” Miss Stanwood went on naively. 
“ I did see you the other evening at the 
Sanger ball, but somehow you were not 
associated in my mind with the Miss 
Courtenay. And the name, Mrs. Row- 
land, was quite — quite strange to me. 
I didn’t understand that you were Mrs. 
— Mrs. Rowland ! ” 

For the first time in her life, perhaps, 
Susan felt that she didn’t know the right 
thing to say. She didn’t blame Lieuten- 
ant Faulkner a bit for falling in love 
with this girl; nor Dan Wilbur, either, 
for that matter. Whatever she said was 
commonplace, so it doesn’t matter. 

“ Even in the finishing school days 
we used to be interested in you and what 
you did,” Miss Stanwood continued 
100 


The Simple Case of Susan 


smilingly. Her hand still lay in Su- 
San’s. “ You can’t imagine what a fruit- 
ful source of discussion you were, and 
I’m afraid there was envy in it, too. Do 
you mind? ” 

And after that how could Susan bring 
the conversation around to so common- 
place a thing as Lieutenant Faulkner? 
The formal call degenerated into a so- 
ciable little visit — girl to girl. Susan 
did make a pretense, twice, of talking 
of some charity which had never en- 
tered her mind until that moment, but 
Miss Stanwood agreed to help so read- 
ily that it didn’t even furnish a subject 
for conversation. 

Half an hour later Susan went her 
way. And then she began to grow 
ashamed of herself, for Lieutenant 
Faulkner’s name had not been men- 
tioned! It was not so bad, of course, 
because this new and sudden friendship 
101 


The Simple Case of Susan 


opened up future possibilities of discus- 
sion, and then 

Lieutenant Faulkner called at five 
o’clock. Susan put on a deeply penitent 
expression and went into the drawing- 
room to meet him. He was pacing back 
and forth with his hands in his pockets, 
and a triumphant smile on his face. 

“ Faulk, Pm awfully sorry — ” she be- 
gan demurely. 

He turned. 

“ Sue, you’re the best ever,” he de- 
clared. “ They can’t beat you.” He 
shook both her hands ; she was positive 
he was going to kiss her. “ When I go 
out I’ll send you a truckful of — of — 
say, what sort of flowers do you like, 
anyway? ” 

Susan merely waited. 

“ See ? ” the lieutenant rattled on. 
“ It was at my place when I came from 
the office?” 


102 


The Simple Case of Susan 


He produced a small envelope and 
drew a card from it; Susan read it: 

“ Miss Stanwood regrets that she was 
not at home when Lieutenant Faulkner 
called. She will be pleased to receive 
Lieutenant Faulkner on Monday, at 
four.” 

And positively Susan hadn’t men- 
tioned his name to her! 


XIII 


HERE are two ways to win the 



JL heart of a woman — the way every- 
body else does it, and some other way. 
The principal difference between Dan 
Wilbur and Lieutenant Faulkner was 
that Dan Wilbur chose the first way. It 
was only natural that he should, since 
the whole of his idle life had been de- 
voted to learning the rules. One could 
never have the slightest doubt of what 
he would do in an emergency — it would 
be the proper thing, done gracefully, win 
or lose. He was the well-bred gentle- 
man, trimmed to pattern with the raw 
edges turned under and sewed. And 
thus he was a counterpart of every other 
man in the “ Social Register,” this being 
a compliment to the “ Social Register.” 

Lieutenant Faulkner played the game 


104 


The Simple Case of Susan 


according to the rules, trump for trump, 
so long as the rules seemed to adequately 
cover the particular condition to which 
they were applied. But he was liable to 
introduce a dazzling variation at any 
moment ; finesse a five-spot, for instance, 
while the other players looked on with 
their mouths open. There was a cer- 
tain exhilaration in following his game, 
because it was so different. His code of 
play was beyond criticism; it was mere- 
ly that he played faster. And he’d never 
had an idle moment in his life ; there was 
too much fun living. 

Now the little daughters of the rich 
are cast about by many strange conven- 
tions. Dan Wilbur knew them, accepted 
them as a matter of course, and was 
bound by them. They never occurred 
to Lieutenant Faulkner, and probably 
wouldn’t have disturbed him much if 
they had. So, starting at the same time 
105 


The Simple Case of Susan 


with the same goal in view, they went by 
widely deviating paths. At the end of 
four days they were out of sight of each 
other, and going in opposite directions. 

For instance, Mr. Wilbur spent a 
quiet, thoughtful Sunday, considering 
the subject of marriage as related to 
himself. Matrimony is a condition 
which has its advantages and its dis- 
advantages. Mr. Wilbur reviewed them 
all, carefully weighing every jot of evi- 
dence, pro and con, as it presented itself. 
In the summing up the weight of evi- 
dence seemed to be on the side of matri- 
mony, and an impartial mind rendered 
a tentative verdict of marriage. Lieu- 
tenant Faulkner spent the same Sunday 
inditing sonnets to a lady’s eyebrows. 

On Monday Mr. Wilbur took his sec- 
ond forward step — went down town to 
consult his attorney, one Simon De- 
gross, a shiny, semirespectable appear- 
106 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ing little man of indeterminate age, who 
made a specialty of handling the busi- 
ness affairs of rich young men who were 
too idle to handle them for themselves. 

“Just what is my income, Mr. De- 
gross ?” Mr. Wilbur inquired as a 
starter. 

“ Last year it was twenty-eight thou- 
sand, seven hundred and ten dollars and 
forty-three cents,” replied the little man, 
much as if he had been sitting there 
waiting, after due preparation, to an- 
swer that particular question. 

“That all?” commented Mr. Wilbur 
with a slight frown. “ Not a great deal, 
is it? How much will be added to that 
by my share of my grandfather’s estate 
when it is settled up? ” 

“Not more than seven thousand a 
year.” 

“ That’ll be about thirty-five thousand, 
won’t it? ” Mr. Wilbur went over and 
8 107 


The Simple Case of Susan 


looked out of the window. “ I’ve about 
decided to get married, Mr. Degross,” he 
volunteered after a moment, “ and that 
seems a pitifully small sum to insure a 
woman’s life happiness, doesn’t it? ” 

The little man shrugged his slim 
shoulders. 

“ It’s altogether as you look at it,” he 
answered. “ It’s a great deal to a wom- 
an who has been accustomed to less, and 
a pittance to one who has been accus- 
tomed to more.” 

“ That’s just the trouble,” Mr. Wilbur 
went on. “ She has been accustomed to 
more — a great deal more. There’s no 
way of increasing it, I suppose? ” 

“ Not with perfect safety,” replied the 
lawyer. “As it is now, your money is 
well invested, all in first mortgages and 

bonds, but of course ? ” 

“No,” interrupted Mr. Wilbur deci- 
sively. He was thoughtfully silent for 
108 


The Simple Case of Susan 


a long time. “You see, I use about 
twenty-five thousand a year myself,” he 
complained, “ and half of the luxuries 
of the world are beyond me. For in- 
stance, a yacht is out of the question; 
and every time I buy a new automobile 
I have to go easy on my other expenses. 
And a chap must have a new car every 
year or so. It’s a confounded nuisance, 
isn’t it! ” 

Mr. Degross didn’t venture to say. 

“ And a wife ! ” Mr. Wilbur went on 
musingly. “ What do you think! ” 

“ I’m only a lawyer,” Mr. Degross re- 
marked modestly. 

Mr. Wilbur’s listless eyes were shad- 
owed by uncertainty. 

“ Of course a few thousands will fix 
up the old place on Eighty-first Street, 
and I suppose we could lease some sort 
of a cottage at Newport for a time, 
still — ” And again he was silent. 

109 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“Why, hang it, I feel like a pauper,” 
he declared at last. “ But I’ll risk it — 
I’ll risk it. You see it isn’t as if I were 
marrying a girl who had nothing of her 
own. Yes, I’ll risk it.” 

Mr. Degross smiled faintly. When he 
left home that morning Mrs. Degross 
was changing a bird on last winter’s hat 
to the other side. 

“ It’s disagreeable to feel — feel posi- 
tively poor, isn’t it?” Mr. Wilbur in- 
quired with a slight smile. “ And she 
is not used to poverty in any form. It’s 
Miss Stanwood, you know — Marjorie 
Stanwood.” 

“Indeed?” and Mr. Degross lifted 
his brows politely. 

“I dare say there’ll be a fat dowry; 
still, that shouldn’t count,” Mr. Wilbur 
went on in self -extenuation. “A chap 
ought to stand on his own feet, don’t 
you think? I suppose we could scrape 
110 


The Simple Case of Susan 


along somehow on thirty-five thou- 
sand? ” 

“ I dare say,” Mr. Degross ventured. 

Lieutenant Faulkner didn’t have to 
waste any time computing his income. 
He knew it was eighteen hundred a year. 
So while Mr. Wilbur was in conference 
with his attorney, the lieutenant called 
on Marjorie Stanwood and held her 
hand so long she had to take it away 
from him. He made her tell him that 
she had not recognized him from the 
automobile, and didn’t notice that she 
said it with deep reluctance. When he 
left her an hour later he would have 
reported progress. 

On Tuesday Mr. Wilbur took a third 
step forward — went up and looked over 
the old house in Eighty-first Street. It 
needed repairs, but altogether it was 
better than he thought. A few odd thou- 
sands in woodwork and paint and deco- 
111 


The Simple Case of Susan 


rations would do wonders for it. Then 
and there he devised new color schemes 
for the dining and drawing-rooms, and 
of course Miss Stanwood would have 
some suggestions. The work could be 
completed in six months ; it wouldn’t be 
half bad. Mr. Wilbur was growing op- 
timistic. 

He had luncheon at his club, and lin- 
gered an hour or more over his coffee. 
And then he had an inspiration. Harry 
Belknap wasn’t using his cottage on the 
Cliff Drive; perhaps he could be in- 
duced to lease it for a time. It would be 
ideal there, overlooking Narragansett 
Bay, and rather inexpensive, too. 
Twelve — at the most fourteen — thou- 
sand ought to tide him over the brief 
Newport season with a little economy. 
By George, he’d write to Belknap and 
ask him about the place. It was small, 
of course, only sixteen rooms, still they 
112 


The Simple Case of Susan 


could make it do; love in a cottage. 
And the stables would make an ideal 
garage. He’d have to begin economiz- 
ing, though, right now. On second 
thought he wouldn’t take another pot of 
coffee. 

En route down town Mr. Wilbur 
dropped in at the florist’s where some 
orchids had attracted his attention, 
stopped at the Empire and reserved a 
box for John Drew on Thursday, and 
telephoned to Sherry’s to reserve his fa- 
vorite table after the theater that even- 
ing. He would arrange a formal dinner 
party later on in Miss Stanwood’s hon- 
or. And speaking of a dinner party re- 
minded him of Susan. And Susan 
reminded him of a whole procession of 
things! For instance, he caught him- 
self wondering as to the identity of the 
dark-mustached army officer whom he 
had met as he came out of the apart- 
113 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ment house where Susan lived. There 
was no reason why he should have won- 
dered, but he did. There were several 
odd things in this connection, and he re- 
viewed them all. 

Lieutenant Faulkner spent that same 
Tuesday in trying to figure out whether 
Marjorie would consider it impetuous of 
him if he came right out and told her 
he was crazy about her; also he read 
“ Romeo and Juliet” for the first time 
since his school days, when he had been 
madly infatuated with his teacher, a 
widow aged thirty-one. In addition to 
which he made a mental note to take 
Marjorie to see John Drew. All men, 
when they are in love, take their heart’s 
desire to see John Drew. 

On Wednesday afternoon Mr. Wilbur 
took the plunge. He dropped in at Mr. 
Stanwood’s office down town, and in a 
few chaste, unemotional words, asked 
114 


The Simple Case of Susan 


permission to pay his attentions to Miss 
Stanwood. He was quite calm and 
plain-spoken and frank about it. He 
pointed out that he loved her more than 
all the world, et cetera , et cetera ; that 
his regard for her had come upon him 
entirely unawares, and that his life’s 
happiness would not be complete with- 
out her, et cetera, et cetera . 

Mr. Stanwood didn’t seem to be sur- 
prised. It was an old story to him. He 
swung around in his swivel chair and 
faced Mr. Wilbur, and thoughtfully 
looked him over. Mr. Wilbur submitted 
to the scrutiny gracefully, duly con- 
scious that no eye, however discrimi- 
nating, could detect a flaw in him. As 
a matter of fact, Mr. Stanwood rather 
liked Mr. Wilbur. He had known him 
for several years, and in all his wide 
acquaintance he didn’t recall one indi- 
vidual whose coat set so well in the back. 
115 


The Simple Case of Susan 


He would be a distinct addition to any 
family, would Mr. Wilbur. 

“You haven’t said anything to Mar- 
jorie about your — your regard for her, 
I assume ? ” Mr. Stan wood inquired at 
last. 

“Nothing, of course,” said Mr. Wil- 
bur. “I didn’t care to offer myself in 
a quarter where I might be objection- 
able.” 

“ Quite right,” commented Mr. Stan- 
wood. “ Lack of consideration for their 
elders is one of the besetting evils of the 
younger generation.” There was a 
pause. “Have you any reason to be- 
lieve that my daughter cares for you? ” 
he asked at last. 

Mr. Wilbur considered the matter 
thoughtfully in detail. 

“I have dared to hope that I was 
not distasteful to her,” he remarked 
at last. “ My regard for her is such 
116 


The Simple Case of Susan 


that I — I hope I can make her care 
for me.” 

“You know this thing of arbitrarily 
taking a young girl’s happiness in hand 
is, I believe, a mistake in a great many 
cases,” Mr. Stanwood observed didacti- 
cally. “ Don’t you personally think it 
better to ascertain her wishes and de- 
sires before undertaking to guide them 
toward any one object? ” 

“ Yes, of course,” Mr. Wilbur agreed. 
“I’m asking for permission to pay my 
attentions to your daughter. If I find I 
am not acceptable to her, except as a 
friend, I shall withdraw, of course.” 

A faint, luminous twinkle was in Mr. 
Stanwood’s eyes. 

“ And if I say you may,” he said after 
a moment, “ I assume you are prepared 
to fight your own way with her? I am 
not to be called upon as arbiter. I shall 
neither employ coercion nor do anything 
117 


The Simple Case of Susan 


to injure your chances. Personally, you 
are acceptable to me. Pll say that. She 
has the last choice, of course.” 

Mr. Wilbur arose, and in a burst of 
enthusiasm shook hands with Mr. Stan- 
wood. There was a faint quaver of emo- 
tion in his voice when he spoke. 

“ Thank you, Mr. Stanwood,” he said 
with an effort. “It’s an honor that I 
scarcely dared to hope for.” 

Mr. Stanwood waved his gratitude 
aside. 

“ Don’t thank me,” he remarked. 
“ You know you’ve got to settle with her 
yet. r And now, Dan, how are you fixed 
financially? One must always have an 
eye on these things when one’s own 
daughter is involved?” 

Mr. Wilbur told him candidly, went 
into the possibilities of revamping the 
old family house in Eighty-first Street, 
and mentioned the chance of getting the 
118 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Belknap cottage at Newport. Mr. Stan- 
wood listened silently. 

“ Of course, all that’s of no conse- 
quence,” he said at the end. “ Under- 
stand, Dan, that it’s my daughter’s hap- 
piness that is to be always considered.” 
He was silent a little while. “ And mere 
money isn’t happiness, Dan,” he said at 
last slowly. “ No man knows that better 
than I do.” He shook off a sudden 
mood and came back to business again. 
“ Dan, if you were left absolutely pen- 
niless, could you earn a living for your 
wife? ” he asked. “ After all, that is the 
main point.” 

“ Really, Mr. Stanwood, the matter 
had never occurred to me in just that 
light before,” Mr. Wilbur confessed fal- 
teringly. “ I dare say I could, although 
there seems not even a remote possibil- 
ity that I would ever have to do so.” 

“ How could you, for instance? ” 

119 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“Well — er — er — I should say I’d 
choose Wall Street.” 

“ It takes money to start there,” said 
Mr. Stanwood. 

“ Of course — I hadn’t thought of 
that,” Mr. Wilbur mused. “ Well, 
there’s a great deal to be made with a 
racing string, say,” he went on hope- 
fully. 

Mr. Stanwood shook his head. 

“ More money to start,” he said. 

“ Or — or — ” And Mr. Wilbur was 
desperate. “ I tell you,” he burst out 
suddenly, “I could write a — a — book, 
say. I’ve been everywhere and done 
everything and seen everything, and 
they tell me some of these author chaps 
turn quite a penny at writing books.” 

Mr. Stanwood arose. It was a signal 
that the interview was at an end. 

“ Talk it over with Marjorie,” he sug- 
gested kindly. “ As I say, you’re agree- 
120 


The Simple Case of Susan 


able to me personally, but I shall use no 
influence either for or against. You un- 
derstand? ” 

And while this was happening Lieu- 
tenant Faulkner was holding Marjorie 
Stan wood’s hand and telling her that 
her heart line showed that she would 
marry only once, that she would love her 
husband devotedly — almost as much as 
he loved her — and that she would live to 
a ripe old age in perfect happiness. 


XIV 


C RABBED, crusty science tells us, 
encyclopedically, that electricity is 
our most potent force; wherefore it 
would appear that science is a musty, 
driveling, moth-eaten old dumbhead who 
never sat opposite a pair of brown eyes 
seeking potency. Electricity merely 
moves machinery, bridges illimitable 
space, and cures sciatica ; while the 
power that lies in a woman’s eyes makes 
the merry old world go ’round. It over- 
turns empires, mocks at monarchs, be- 
devils diplomacy, and otherwise snarls 
things up through sheer lightness of 
heart. That is its amusement. 

It’s a science in itself, inexact if you 
please, and unfettered by known rules. 
But some day some chap will come along 
and make a serious study of it, and then, 
122 


The Simple Case of Susan 


after five or ten or fifteen thousand years 
he will be competent to write a brief 
preface apologizing for scant informa- 
tion and general inaccuracies. All this 
power is there — particularly in brown 
eyes. They flicker and fleer, and prom- 
ise and provoke, and flash and flame, 
and smolder and smother. Blue eyes 
are only brilliant, gray eyes are only 
gracious, black eyes are only bewitch- 
ing, but brown eyes! Brown eyes are 
dangerous, if you please — yes, that’s the 
word — dangerous ! 

It may be that that was the quality 
in Marjorie Stanwood’s eyes which ap- 
pealed to Lieutenant Faulkner. Dan- 
ger! There is some popular tradition 
to the effect that the soldier delights in 
danger, and Lieutenant Faulkner was a 
soldier. All of which leads to the gen- 
eral conclusion that that fortune-telling 
episode may fairly be classed as an aus- 
9 123 


The Simple Case of Susan 


picious occasion. Holding a lady’s hand 
for thirty-five minutes, and unfolding 
the unknown, with only an occasional 
hint of the obvious, is an achievement, 
for young hearts beat fast and ruddy 
blood leaps easily. Dan Wilbur would 
have considered it an impertinence; so 
would Marjorie Stanwood if Dan Wil- 
bur had tried it. 

Accustomed to material dangers and 
unawed by the intangible, Lieutenant 
Faulkner romped on the edge of the 
abyss and was smiling daringly into 
the brown eyes when finally Marjorie 
withdrew her hand. 

“Yes, a long life and lots of happi- 
ness,” he assured her glibly. “ You’ll 
never marry but once, and your hus- 
band’ll be just crazy about you. He’ll 
be a good fellow, your husband. I might 
even conjecture as to his — to his profes^ 
sion, if you are interested? ” 

124 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Marjorie bit her red lips until they 
were redder than ever. And red lips, 
be it known, are just as dangerous as 
brown eyes — perhaps more so. 

“ Naturally I am interested,” she said 
with a slight smile. 

Lieutenant Faulkner drew a long 
breath and ceased smiling. 

“You’ll marry a — a — ” and he paused. 
“I think you’d better let me examine 
your hand again.” He reached for it. 

Marjorie primly placed both hands 
behind her back. 

“ No,” she said. “ You’ve seen 
enough.” 

“ But I can — I can do so much better 
when I’m looking at it,” protested the 
lieutenant. 

“ I dare say,” remarked Marjorie, but 
she didn’t move her hands. 

“Well,” and the lieutenant thought- 
fully stroked his chin, “ I think, if I re- 
125 


The Simple Case of Susan 


member the lines of your hand well 
enough, I think perhaps you’ll marry a 
— a — so — so — solemn looking chap with 
chin whiskers,” he concluded desperate- 
ly. “ Really, you’d better let me look 
again,” he blurted. 

Marjorie shook her head and laughed 
outrageously for an instant — just an in- 
stant — while the red blood tingled in 
Lieutenant Faulkner’s face. For the 
first time in his life he knew he was a 
coward — a quitter. He grinned sheep- 
ishly to cover his shame and went over 
to inspect some orchids on the table. 
Finally, he thrust an inquisitive nose 
into the brilliant, vapid blossoms, while 
Marjorie, with pensive eyes, critically 
examined the palm of her left hand. 
Neither had anything to say for a long 
time, and then : 

“ Who taught you to tell fortunes ? ” 
she asked calmly. 


126 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ A Spanish woman in the Philip- 
pines,” he replied absently, without look- 
ing around. “ She lived in a little 
* ’dobe ’ hut on the outskirts of Cavite, 
a couple of miles from our camp.” 

“ Young and pretty, I dare say! ” she 
taunted. 

“ No, old, old, a regular old witch, 
who looked as if she might have kept a 
stable of broomsticks,” returned the 
lieutenant. He was still staring at the 
orchids. “ She had a dog named Al- 
fonso XIII, so naturally all the Ameri- 
cans liked her; and she could almost 
cook a chicken a la Maryland,” he added 
irrelevantly. “ She was a bully old 
sport.” 

A faint suggestion of a smile curled 
the corners of Marjorie’s red mouth. 
She was quite certain that no other man 
of her acquaintance would have stated 
the case just that way. 

127 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“And, of course, she told your for- 
tune ? ” she inquired. 

“Yes, lots of times,” the lieutenant 
confessed. And he turned to face her 
with a singular gravity in his eyes. 
“ And every time she married me off to a 
different princess of Europe. You know 
she thought the United States was just 
south of Switzerland, a sort of high C 
in the European concert.” He was lean- 
ing against the table, watching her 
smile. “ I like the Philippines,” he 
added suddenly. “ Pve been thinking 
some of going back there — pretty soon ? ” 

It was a question. The lieutenant was 
staring into brown eyes which met his 
unwaveringly; there came not one 
change in the curve of the scarlet lips; 
there was only the idlest interest in her 
manner. The lieutenant’s eyes nar- 
rowed a little. 

“ She doesn’t seem to have been very 
128 


The Simple Case of Susan 


accurate in telling your fortune,” Mar- 
jorie remarked carelessly. “ At least, I 
dare say, you haven’t married your 
princess yet?” 

“ Well, no,” he confessed. 

“And if she taught you, then your 
system can’t be very good? ” 

“ No, I suppose not,” slowly. 

Marjorie smoothed her skirt with one 
slender hand. 

“I’m awfully glad,” she said at last 
with a little sigh. 

Lieutenant Faulkner took one impul- 
sive step forward. 

“Why?” he demanded eagerly. 
“ Why?” 

“I hate to think that I should ever 
have to marry a solemn looking chap 
with chin whiskers,” replied Marjorie 
demurely. Then she laughed. 

Lieutenant Faulkner didn’t smile — 
the thing was past the smiling stage 
129 


The Simple Case of Susan 


now — only stood looking at her with 
hands tightly clenched and infinite ado- 
ration in his eyes. 

“ I didn’t (fare say what I wanted to,” 
he remarked steadily. “ You know what 
I meant? ” And he took another impul- 
sive step forward. “ It was ” 

“ Tell me something about the Philip- 
pines,” interrupted Marjorie in a cool- 
ing, placid little voice. “ I’ve never 
been there. Why do you want to go 
back? ” 

It was as good as a shower bath. The 
lieutenant stood tensely for an instant, 
then the fingers loosened their grip on 
his palms, and the declaration in his 
eyes was temporarily withdrawn. He 
sat down. He might just as well be- 
gin right now to educate her up to the 
army! 

“Have you ever been to West Point?” 
he inquired. 


130 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ No.” 

“ Or a garrison! Governor’s Is- 
land! ” 

“ No.” 

“ It would be hard, then, for me to 
make you see just why I like the Philip- 
pines,” he went on. “I think perhaps 
the real reason is that it’s always pos- 
sible for an enterprising young man,” 
and he bowed modestly, “ to get action 
out there — to start something. That ap- 
peals to me, and incidentally offers 
opportunities for advancement. Here in 
New York I’m idle; everybody’s idle, 
and that isn’t a man’s work, you know.” 
He was silent a moment. “ If I had to 
stay here much longer I’d be wearing 
my handkerchief in my cuff.” 

Marjorie smiled slightly. 

“ Are you on furlough, then ! A leave 
of absence! What would you call it!” 

“No, not that — worse,” replied the 
131 


The Simple Case of Susan 


lieutenant hopelessly. “ I’m attached to 
an advisory engineering board with 
nothing to do. It gets on my nerves. 
I’m positively oppressed by the desire 
to do something. The other night I 
chartered an automobile and skittered 
all over the landscape trying to make 
myself believe that something was hap- 
pening.” He paused and regarded Mar- 
jorie’s profile gravely. “ At West Point, 
you know, they only play at being sol- 
diers, but you like it — the rigid disci- 
pline, and the grim way they do it ; in a 
garrison there are soldiers, and you like 
them because they’re the chaps we all 
depend upon even if they do seem to be 
idle; but in the Philippines, there’s al- 
ways work and lots of it, and it’s worth 
while. Think of it! A handful of our 
men out there are holding uncounted 
millions of natives in the strait and 
narrow with their noses up to the tie- 
132 


The Simple Case of Susan 


line, and they’re busy every minute. If 
we ever give up the Philippines Pm go- 
ing to resign from the army; there won’t 
be anything left to do.” 

Now it just happened that Marjorie 
Stanwood didn’t know another man in 
all the wide, wide world who worked for 
his living. Even papa only sat at a lit- 
tered desk and told other men what to 
do, curtly, she thought. Of course some- 
body had to dig the ditches and mend 
the plumbing and sweep up the leaves 
in Central Park. And here was a young 
man who worked! The novelty of it 
was simply dazzling! And, further, he 
lilted to work ! 

“ It must be wonderful — the sense of 
responsibility, the work to be done,” 
said Marjorie thoughtfully, dreamily. 

“ It is wonderful,” the lieutenant 
agreed. “ And it’s not like anything you 
ever saw. A well-dressed woman walk- 
133 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ing along the principal street smoking 
an eight-inch cigar is liable to knock you 
a twister if you are not used to it; and 
they grow -flowers out there — not odor- 
less things like those,” and he indicated 
the orchids. (He knew Dan Wilbur sent 
them.) “And sunsets! A sunset on 
Manila Bay is worth going around the 
world to see.” 

“ I see — I can imagine,” remarked 
Marjorie after a while, dreamily. “ And 
you are going back. When ? ” 

Lieutenant Faulkner had been dream- 
ing a little. Something in the tone of 
her voice brought him back to earth and 
he regarded her thoughtfully. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “I asked 
for my transfer a month ago. I’ll get 
it, I know. It may come at any time. 
It means at least two years there.” 

Marjorie arose and rearranged the 
orchids in the vase. 

134 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“Is New York absolutely intolerable 
to you? ” she asked. 

“ It was getting so when I asked for 
the transfer,” replied the lieutenant. 
“ But in the last few days things have 
changed somewhat, and I’m — I’m not 
certain now that I want to go.” 

“ Why? ” It was a thin, far-away lit- 
tle voice. 

Lieutenant Faulkner arose and went 
to her. She glanced up at him shyly, 
then her eyes dropped to the orchids 
again. 

“Shall I really tell you?” he asked. 

One white hand fluttered, and he 
reached for it eagerly. 

“You told my fortune once, and I 
didn’t — didn’t like it very much,” she 
said defensively, and the hand was with- 
drawn. 

“Shall I really tell you?” he de- 
manded again. 


135 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ No, don’t tell me — now,” she an- 
swered pleadingly. And she moved 
away a little. 

“ You know, don’t you? ” 

“Yes, I know,” faintly. 

“And you? ” 

“ It isn’t absolutely necessary that 
you should go, is it ? ” 

And just then Marjorie’s maiden aunt, 
Miss Elvira Stanwood, entered the 


room. 


XV 



IEUTENANT FAULKNER never 


-L/ really hesitated but twice in his 
life — once on his first day in battle when 
he was introduced to the venomous svutt 
of a bullet which he knew was intended 
for him despite the fact that it was fired 
by an utter stranger, a man who could 
not possibly cherish any personal ani- 
mosity against him; and again on that 
occasion when he laid his hand on the 
knob of the door leading into Mr. Stan- 
wood’s study. In each instance he ad- 
vanced. He found the white-haired mil- 
lionaire sitting at a huge rosewood desk. 
They had never met. 

“Mr. Stanwood, I believe?” inquired 
the lieutenant. 

“ Yes.” 

“ I am Lieutenant Faulkner.” 


137 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Mr. Stanwood glanced at the card. 

“ Lieutenant Robert E. Lee Faulk- 
ner, 1 ” he read. “ Sit down.” 

Lieutenant Faulkner sat down. Mr. 
Stanwood turned to face him and fa- 
vored him with one comprehensive 
sweep of his eyes. 

“ Of Virginia,” Lieutenant Faulkner 
added. “ Thirty years old, only son of 
General Putnam Faulkner, of the late 
Confederate States, a fighting man who, 
at least on one occasion, took the Fed- 
eral forces over the high jumps ; grand- 
son of two Governors of Virginia in the 
days when public office was a patriotic 
obligation and not a commercial trans- 
action ; and direct descendant of 
Amenedab and Charity Faulkner, who 
landed at Jamestown about 1607 and 
were, respectively best man and matron 
of honor at the Pocahontas- John Rolfe 
nuptials.” 


138 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Mr. Stanwood listened to this busi- 
ness-like statement with interest born 
of utter curiosity. 

“ Amenedab Faulkner, I may add, 
bore arms by warrant of the British 
Crown,” Lieutenant Faulkner went on. 
“He was a great-grandson of a third 
son of a sword-maker of Birmingham 
who was knighted by the Crown in rec- 
ognition of a very superior weapon he 
produced. I am the sole male survivor 
of the line, graduate of West Point, saw 
three years’ active service in the Philip- 
pines with General Underwood, and Con- 
gress was kind enough to vote me a 
medal for services rendered. I have a 
mother and sister who live on a farm 
near Petersburg, Va.” 

Mr. Stanwood drew a long breath. 

“ It’s interesting enough,” he com- 
mented. “ May I inquire the purpose 
of it all? ” 



10 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Lieutenant Faulkner flowed stead- 
ily on. 

“ I am at present attached to an ad- 
visory engineering board here in New 
York, a sort of reward for long service 
in the field. So far as I am aware no 
member of my family has ever done a 
dishonorable thing, none was ever in 
jail, and none ever had enough money 
to keep him awake nights. I am a mem- 
ber of the Army and Navy Club, and in 
the course of another couple of years 
I believe I will be made a captain. For 
information as to my past performances 
I refer you to the Congress of the 
United States ; as to my personal integ- 
rity, I refer you to the Secretary of 
War, or, nearer home, to General Un- 
derwood, also a member of the Army 
and Navy Club. I believe that covers 
the case.” 

He paused as if that were all. Mr. 

140 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Stanwood was scrutinizing him care- 
fully. 

“ What is the purpose of all this? ” he 
asked again. 

Lieutenant Faulkner drew a long 
breath. 

“ I have the honor to ask your daugh- 
ters hand in marriage,” he explained 
steadily. “ You didn’t know me — I have 
introduced myself.” 

“ Oh ! ” and the millionaire settled 
back in his chair with an expression 
which indicated faint amusement in his 
eyes. “ Oh ! ” he said again. Had it not 
been that he was a little startled he prob- 
ably would have laughed. Certainly he 
had never been approached in just this 
business-like manner before, and he fell 
to wondering what effect such a cyclonic 
young man must have had on Marjorie. 
And as he wondered a frown appeared 
on his brow. 


141 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ You take me unawares,” he said af- 
ter a moment, defensively. “ Of course 
you know my daughter? ” 

“Very well indeed,” the lieutenant 
boasted. 

“And it so happens that I was not 
aware of your existence,” said Mr. 
Stanwood. “ I never even heard of 
you.” 

“I am only thirty,” the lieutenant 
apologized. 

There was something in his tone which 
caused Mr. Stanwood to pause deliber- 
ately and look him over again. 

“ How long have you known her — my 
daughter ? ” he inquired at last. 

Lieutenant Faulkner blushed. 

“ Nearly a week,” he said. 

“ Nearly a — ! ” The millionaire 

arose, amazed. He stared coldly down 
upon his caller for an instant with men- 
acing eyes. “You haven’t dared to in- 
142 


The Simple Case of Susan 


timate to her anything of — of affection, 
in so short a time ? ” 

“I never intimate things,” returned 
the lieutenant. “ I told her I loved her, 
if that’s what you mean? ” 

The jaws of the financial giant 
snapped viciously. 

“And she, sir?” he thundered. 
“What did she say?” 

“ She said — er — I made her admit 
that she loved me,” the lieutenant went 
on. “ She told me, though, I was pre- 
cipitate — headlong, I believe she said — 
but I explained that it would never hap- 
pen again and she forgave even that.” 

“ Headlong ! ” raved Mr. Stanwood. 
“ I should say it was headlong ! ” 

He stamped up and down his study 
violently. It was the first time in his 
life he had ever allowed himself to be 
surprised into anger. Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner was as placid as a summer sea ; there 
143 


The Simple Case of Susan 


was only a little steely glint in his 
eyes. 

“Why, confound it, sir, it’s unspeak- 
able ! ” Mr. Stanwood bellowed in a 
rage. “You — you young ! ” 

“ Epithets are utterly useless and not 
in the best of taste,” the lieutenant cut 
in chillingly. “ Sit down a moment.” 

And Mr. Stanwood sat down. To this 
day he wonders just what psychic force 
compelled so quick an obedience. And 
once in his chair he began to get control 
of himself again; the deadly, merciless 
calm which characterized every act of 
his life reasserted itself. 

“ I am amazed,” he said at last. 

“ I gathered as much from your ac- 
tions,” observed the lieutenant. “Will 
you listen a moment! ” 

Mr. Stanwood stared at him mutely. 

“ I saw your daughter first at the 
opera,” the lieutenant explained. “I 
144 


The Simple Case of Susan 


was introduced to her at the Sanger ball 
and then and there I knew what my feel- 
ings were in the matter. I called on her 
in this house as any gentleman might 
have called. That I didn’t meet you was 
unfortunate, of course, but I didn’t. 
This afternoon I — I inadvertently told 
her I loved her.” 

“Inadvertently!” queried Mr. Stan- 
wood. 

“ I mean it slipped out,” the lieutenant 
explained. “ I had intended to convince 
myself that my attentions would not be 
distasteful to her, and then I should have 
asked you for permission to pay my ad- 
dresses. As it happened, a wheel slipped. 
Anyway, immediately I did know she 
cared for me I came straight to you.” 
He paused a moment. “ I fail to find any 
flaw in that course of conduct ; certainly 
there is nothing to provoke epithets.” 

Mr. Stanwood wheeled in his chair 
145 


The Simple Case of Susan 


and sat for a long time staring moodily 
out of the window. Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner merely waited. 

“ Young man, do you know what you 
are asking for ? ” he demanded at last 
as he turned. 

“ I do.” 

“ And can you imagine how many men 
have made that same request? ” 

“ It’s a matter of no consequence.” 

“And the position of those men?” 
Mr. Stanwood went on emphatically. 
“ Two dukes,” he told them off on his 
fingers, “ one earl, three marquises, and 
half a dozen counts.” 

“ Charity forbids me making any com- 
ment upon the foreign noblemen who 
come to this country to woo the daughter 
of one of the richest men in the United 
States,” the lieutenant remarked evenly. 
“ Your question answers itself — your 
daughter is still unmarried.” 

146 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Mr. Stanwood blinked a little. 

“ She could marry to-day practically 
any man in this country,” he went on, 
almost apologetically, “ no matter what 
his wealth or position.” 

“ The greater the compliment to me,” 
the lieutenant urged. “ She loves me ! ” 

“ Hang it, that’s what’s the matter,” 
the millionaire flamed suddenly. “ No 
other man would have dared to do what 
you have done — go to my daughter first. 
You haven’t played the game as they 
played it.” 

“ That’s why I’m here,” returned the 
lieutenant calmly. He leaned back in 
his chair and clasped his hands around 
one knee. “ You didn’t play the finan- 
cial game as others played it ; that’s why 
you are here.” 

It took Mr. Stanwood a minute to get 
that, and having it it was a tremendous 
thing to think about. He thought about 
147 


The Simple Case of Susan 


it a long time. It had a tremendously 
placating influence. Finally, he favored 
the lieutenant with one sidelong glance, 
and fussed with some papers on his 
desk. 

“I suppose,” he said with dangerous 
deliberation, “ you consider yourself 
perfectly able to take care of a wife?” 

Lieutenant Faulkner’s heart leaped. 

“ I do,” he said firmly. 

“And what, may I inquire, is your 
income ? ” 

“ Eighteen hundred dollars a year ! ” 

“ Eighteen hundred dollars a — ! ” 
And Mr. Stanwood was on his feet rav- 
ing again. “Eighteen hundred dollars 
a year ! ” he repeated. “ Why, con- 
found it, sir, my butler makes more than 
that.” 

“ Any other man may if he is suffi- 
ciently lacking in self-respect,” re- 
marked the lieutenant. 

148 


The Simple Case of Susan 


The millionaire was facing him with 
clenched fists and blazing eyes. 

“ Your confounded impertinence — ” 
he raged. “ Do you know what it costs 
to run this housed One thousand dol- 
lars a day, sir. How far could you go 
with that? ” 

The lieutenant glanced about the 
sumptuous apartment. 

“ I’m afraid it wouldn’t be much long- 
er than three o’clock to-morrow after- 
noon,” he remarked, and he arose. “ I 
think I understand,” he added. “You 
prefer to make your daughter’s mar- 
riage a financial proposition?” 

Mr. Stanwood grew suddenly danger- 
ously calm. 

“ There is nothing further to be said,” 
he went on. “ The thing is utterly pre- 
posterous.” He indicated the door with 
a sweep of his hand. 

“ Before I go I’ll just add that I came 
149 


The Simple Case of Susan 


to you as a personal favor to you,” 
Lieutenant Faulkner said slowly. “I 
wanted to feel that I had complied with 
the conventions. When one does that 
one’s self-respect is flattered.” 

“ Personal favor to me,” Mr. Stan- 
wood repeated. “And please do me 
another. Don’t ever call here again.” 

“ I never shall — until you invite me,” 
replied Lieutenant Faulkner. 


XVI 


[ Being a literal report of a conversa- 
tion over the telephone between Mr . 
Fulton Stanwoody millionaire, and Gen- 
eral Underwood, U. S . A.] 

H ELLO!” 

“Hello! That General Under- 
wood? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Pm Mr. Stanwood — Mr. Fulton Stan- 
wood, of Wall Street.” 

“ Well? ” 

“ Who in the hell is this Lieutenant 
Eobert E. Lee Faulkner? ” 

“ Who in the hell do you think you are 
talking to ? ” 

“ This is General Underwood, isn’t 
it?” 

“ Yes, not a flunkey, as you evidently 
imagine.” 


151 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Well, Pm Mr. Fulton Stan wood, of 
Wall Street, and ” 

“ I don’t care if you’re Croesus. 
Don’t talk to me like that. What do you 
want? ” 

(Pause.) 

“I beg your pardon. I’m afraid I 
was a little abrupt.” 

“ Afraid you were abrupt ? You know 
damned well you were abrupt. What 
do you want? ” 

(Pause.) 

“ I would like to inquire, please, as 
to Lieutenant Faulkner’s character and 
standing? ” 

“ He’s a gentleman and a soldier, sir. 
And he wouldn’t have called me away 
from a game of bridge to ask idiotic 
questions.” 

“ I mean, what’s he ever done? What 
are his family connections? What are 
his prospects? ” 


152 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ He’s done more than any other 
man of his age in the army, and 
Congress voted him a medal for per- 
sonal gallantry ; his family connec- 
tions are a great deal better than those 
of any other man I know; and he will 
be commander-in-chief of the army of 
the United States if he lives long 
enough.” 

(Pause.) 

“Unmarried, I suppose?” 

“ Yes, and consequently happy.” 

“ Is he the sort of man to whom you 
would give your daughter ? ” 

“ My daughter ! Confound you, I’m 
a bachelor. But if I had a daughter I’d 
hand her to him on a gold platter.” 

(Pause.) 

“ His relations with you, I dare say, 
are rather cordial ? ” 

“ Cordial? He’s an impertinent young 
shave tail, sir. He’s the only man living 
153 


The Simple Case of Susan 


who ever called me down in the field. 
That all 1 ” 

“ I — think — that’s — all.” 

(Pause.) 

“ Did you say anything 1 ” 

“ No — I — was — just — thinking 
that ” 

“ Excuse me. I thought you said 
* Thank you.’ ” (Bang!) 

(Bang!) 


XVII 


W E will now rhapsodize a few lines 
about the Baize Curtains. The 
dictionary says that baize is a “ sort of 
coarse, woolen stuff.” These were not 
that kind of Baize Curtains. These 
Baize Curtains, of an unromantic gray- 
green, were, by reflected glory, at once a 
cloth of gold, and hangings of royal pur- 
ple, and attar scented fine linen. They 
were the gossamer shield behind which 
Love hid ; the tantalizing draperies 
which Cupid drew against the prying 
eyes of the world ; the roseate lining of a 
den where hand might meet hand in one 
clinging, thrilling touch, while the voice 
of the sordid earth grew vague and 
faint; the completing wall of a nook of 
delight whereof the furnishings were 
two chairs, a wobbly table, sparkling 
11 155 


The Simple Case of Susan 


cut glass and silver, and spotless na- 
pery. And, lo! the Lord of the Baize 
Curtains was the waiter; and even he 
always said “ Ahem ! ” before he ven- 
tured to draw them. 

The Baize Curtains hung down as 
straight and uncompromisingly as a pair 
of oaken boards, cutting off a many- 
windowed little room which grows fun- 
gus-like, straight out from the east wall 
of the dining room of the Casino in Cen- 
tral Park. In the large room, always 
quiet, there is, nevertheless, the public- 
ity of Sherry’s or Delmonico’s, but in 
the nook behind the Baize Curtains is a 
haven and a refuge. Only the eyes of 
the waiter come here, and a discreet 
waiter can neither see nor hear. 

The large room was deserted save for 
one person — a gentleman in an automo- 
bile coat. His leather cap lay on a chair 
beside him, and he was gazing reflec- 
156 


The Simple Case of Susan 


tively into the depths of an amber- 
colored, iced liquid on the table in front 
of him. The sun was slowly dropping 
down off there somewhere behind Cen- 
tral Park West, and a crimson glow was 
creeping into the room. The gentleman 
was Dan Wilbur. He was mooning over 
that scene in the play where John Drew 
came right out and told the girl he loved 
her. It had seemed so easy, so neces- 
sary, so natural, so politely impetuous. 
And he wondered what Marjorie had 
thought of it. 

His sentimental meditations were dis- 
turbed by a laugh, a suppressed gurgle 
of merriment which caused him to turn 
and stare inquiringly at the Baize Cur- 
tains, inscrutable as the face of Fate. 
He was still staring fixedly when the 
laughter came again, this time a little 
louder, and then a woman, hidden in the 
recess, spoke: 


157 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ No, no, no ! ” she declared positively. 
“ That would never do.” 

A man’s voice mumbled something 
that he didn’t catch, and then the woman 
spoke again: 

“ Why, that’s too prosaic. Since it is 
going to be an elopement, and all our 
plans are made, let’s make it just as 
romantic as possible. Won’t it be just 
too delicious I ” 

Mr. Wilbur’s eyes were no longer lis- 
tening — they were startled as he sat 
staring at the curtain. His moodiness 
passed, and he was suddenly, keenly, 
alertly alive. The voice! There was 
never another in the world quite like 
it; it stirred every quiescent faculty 
into activity, and his hands closed 
spasmodically. An elopement ! Our 
plans ! 

The man mumbled something else. 

“ Think of it ! ” the woman exclaimed, 
158 


The Simple Case of Susan 


and she laughed again. “ I’d give a thou- 
sand dollars to see his face when he 
knows it.” 

Mr. Wilbur knew that voice now, 
knew it beyond all possible mistake, and 
some quick, subtle working of his mind 
brought hard lines into his face. He 
was not an eavesdropper, but it never 
occurred to him for one instant to relax 
his attention to the conversation behind 
the Baize Curtains. Once he made as if 
to arise, but he dropped back again; a 
silent-shod waiter glanced in at the door. 
Mr. Wilbur waved him away and still 
sat listening. 

“ He can’t have the faintest idea of it, 
of course,” said the woman after an- 
other little pause. “How long will it 
take us to get there ? ” 

Mr. Wilbur strained his ears vainly 
to get the answer. It was only a mum- 
ble. 


159 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ What time is it now ? ” the woman 
asked again. 

Mr. Wilbur glanced at his watch. It 
was twenty minutes past six o’clock. 

“ We’d better be going, then,” sug- 
gested the woman. 

Mr. Wilbur heard the rustle of silken 
skirts, and involuntarily picked up a 
newspaper to shield himself, then : 

“You dear, dear , dearl Of course I 
love you, silly.” Then, impetuously, 
passionately : “ I love you more than 
anything else in all the world. You 
know it, don’t you?” And then: “But 
I’m just so excited about this that — that 
I can’t hold myself. Yes, just one.” 

And then — and then — ! Mr. Wilbur’s 
modest ears were shocked by the unmis- 
takable sound of a — a kiss ! Yes, it was 
a kiss! He heard a chair pushed back, 
and a moment later a woman parted the 
Baize Curtains ; a man appeared just be- 
160 


The Simple Case of Susan 


hind her. A reddened ray of the dying 
sun illuminated them both for an in- 
stant, and Mr. Wilbur’s teeth closed 
involuntarily as he dodged behind his 
newspaper. 

The woman was Susan, and the man a 
black-mustached, business-like individ- 
ual, square and soldierly from the tips 
of his boots to the top of his black 
head, with a keen, determined face and 
shrewd, penetrating eyes. It was the 
man Mr. Wilbur had met going into the 
apartment house where Susan lived. 

They passed Mr. Wilbur and went out. 


XVIII 


S O deep was Mr. Wilbur’s abstraction 
when he left the Casino that he only 
gave the waiter half a dollar instead of 
a dollar, his usual tip. He cranked up 
thoughtfully, the spark caught, and the 
huge, high-power machine began churn- 
ing restlessly. Mr. Wilbur stood star- 
ing at the polished sides blankly for a 
time, then pulled his leather cap down 
tight, clambered in, and slid slowly 
down the incline to the driveway be- 
low. He turned north, not for any par- 
ticular reason — merely because it hap- 
pened so. 

Susan! An elopement! It had come 
to this ! That dark-mustached chap — he 
knew him perfectly ! ' And Susan did 
kiss him! Every act of hers since his 
return passed before him in review. It 
162 


The Simple Case of Susan 


was obvious — pitifully, vulgarly obvi- 
ous! A jealous husband, the unremit- 
ting attentions of another man, tawdry 
flattery, clandestine meetings and let- 
ters, perhaps, the final triumph of a 
senseless infatuation, and now — now 
this hideous thing ! It always happened 
so. And yet, it was beyond belief. He 
himself couldn’t have believed it if he 
had not known the circumstances so 
well, from Susan’s own red lips, and 
heard — actually heard — what had hap- 
pened behind the Baize Curtains. 

Gradually a sense of his own respon- 
sibility in the affair began to take pos- 
session of him. Perhaps it would have 
been better had he suddenly discovered 
himself to them there in the dining room. 
He had read somewhere in a book of a 
woman who had been turned back from 
a fatal mistake by the timely appear- 
ance of a friend. As it was, he had been 
163 


The Simple Case of Susan 


passed unrecognized — they had seen 
only the back of his newspaper. If he 
had made himself known and had al- 
lowed just a word to drop, showing that 
he knew all, it might have altered every- 
thing. The more he thought of it in this 
light the more he blamed himself, and 
now — and now he was helpless. He 
had blunderingly let the opportunity 
pass. 

Mr. Wilbur loosened his speed clutch, 
sighed a little, and went skimming along 
the East Drive. Through the rapidly 
deepening shadows, somewhere oppo- 
site One Hundredth Street, Mr. Wilbur 
saw the glint of a tail light ahead and 
slowed up a little. As he did so the car 
in front swerved erratically, ran clear 
of the road, and butted into a tree. 
There it stopped, restlessly battering its 
hood to bits. He heard a slight femi- 
nine scream, and some vigorous man- 
164 


The Simple Case of Susan 


talk, whereupon he stopped his car, 
leaped out, and ran across to the other 
car. 

Just as he reached it a woman jumped 
out. It was Susan! And then came an 
awful moment. Susan recognized him 
instantly, and opened her mouth help- 
lessly, then she glanced suddenly at her 
companion, and couldn’t think of a word 
to say. Dan Wilbur and her husband — 
her real husband — face to face at last! 
Her first mad idea was ignominious 
flight, her second tears, her third 
screams ; but finally, she decided that the 
only thing to do was to faint. It would 
at least give her time to get her bear- 
ings ; and she hoped it wouldn’t mess up 
her skirt. So she fainted. No one had 
expected it, and she tumbled down in an 
undignified heap in the middle of the 
road. 

“ What made her do that? ” demanded 
165 


The Simple Case of Susan 


the dark-mustached man in astonish- 
ment. 

“ I imagine she’s hurt,” said Mr. Wil- 
bur sharply. 

“ Why, she couldn’t have been hurt,” 
protested the dark-mustached man. 
“ Nothing but a little jolt — we were 
barely moving.” 

Together they leaned over Susan, 
and Susan’s husband — Lieutenant Paul 
Abercrombie Harwell Rowland — raised 
the inert body and rested her head 
against his knee. A hairpin gave her 
an awful jab in the head, but she couldn’t 
afford even to moan. 

“ Scared, that’s all,” he explained 
tersely. “ Get me a capful of water out 
of the tank there.” 

There was no if-you-please or will- 
you-kindly in this man’s manner of 
speaking. Mr. Wilbur obeyed mechanic- 
ally, albeit hurriedly. There was a cer- 
166 


The Simple Case of Susan 


tain grim triumph in all this, for had 
not Fate handed Susan over to him to 
save from her own folly? It was Provi- 
dence, he was certain of it. After they 
revived her — then — then ! 

The two men worked heroically over 
Susan. They splashed water in the 
pretty, still face, and mussed up the ra- 
diant, sunshiny hair, and chafed the deli- 
cate hands, and finally Paul slapped her 
rosy cheeks sharply. It was the army 
method. Mr. Wilbur was about to pro- 
test at the unnecessary vigor of this 
treatment when he happened to glance 
up and found that every vehicle north 
of Fourteenth Street seemed to have 
stopped, hedging them in, and there 
were a dozen offers of assistance. 

Paul disregarded them all, working 
steadily on. Susan positively declined 
to be revived. Finally, something of ap- 
prehension came into Paul's manner. 
167 


The Simple Case of Susan 


The shock must have been greater than 
he imagined. He glanced up and around 
at the crowd. 

“ Is there a physician here ? ” he que- 
ried shortly. 

No answer. 

“We’ll have to get her to a doctor,” 
Paul told Dan Wilbur hurriedly. “ Pm 
afraid it’s something serious after all.” 
And it was ! “ My steering gear seems 
to be out of commission. Will you give 
us a lift? ” 

Fate was dealing the trump hand to 
Dan Wilbur, as he saw it. 

“ Certainly,” he responded quickly. 
“ I know a doctor chap over here in 
Ninety-sixth Street — be there in two 
minutes.” 

Susan was lifted into the tonneau 
of Mr. Wilbur’s car. Paul climbed 
in beside her, and sat supporting the 
slender, graceful figure in his arms. 

168 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Mr. Wilbur scrambled into the front 
seat. 

“ Open up there ahead,” he bawled. 

The huge car trembled, moved, and 
rushed away. When it stopped in 
Ninety-sixth Street, Paul gathered up 
Susan in his strong arms and carried 
her up the steps and into the physician’s 
office. She was laid upon a couch, and 
the gray-bearded old medicine man made 
a cursory examination, Paul and Dan 
Wilbur looking on. Mr. Wilbur was 
planning his course of procedure. 

“ If you gentlemen will wait in the re- 
ception room ? ” the doctor suggested. 

“ Is it serious ? ” Paul demanded anx- 
iously. 

“ Doesn’t seem to be,” was the reply. 
“ Step outside.” 

He held open the door as they passed 
out, and closed it behind them, after 
which he turned back to his patient. Su- 
169 


The Simple Case of Susan 


san suddenly sat up perfectly straight 
on the couch, with flushed face and dis- 
heveled hair. 

“Have they gone?” she queried 
breathlessly. 

Dr. Graybeard tugged at his whiskers 
in thoughtful surprise. 

“ Only outside,” he said at last. “ Can 
I do anything for you, madam? ” 

“Just let me think! Let me think!” 
exclaimed Susan. 

The physician aimlessly stirred up a 
mixture of aromatic spirits of ammonia 
while Susan thought. After a while 
there came a sharp rap on the door, and 
Paul threw it open. 

“ Paul, Paul ! ” Susan exclaimed, and 
she extended her arms to him. “ Where 
is he% ” 

“HeV 1 Paul repeated. “Oh! the other 
chap. I was afraid to leave you, and to 
prevent delay I sent him in his automo- 
170 


The Simple Case of Susan 


bile to pick up the girl. He’s to meet 
you and me and Faulk at the preacher’s 
in Sixty-fifth Street just as soon as he 
can get there.” 

Susan was staring at him in wild-eyed 
horror. 

“ You sent him to bring Mar — ” 
she began stammeringly. “Paul Row- 
land, don't — you — know — who — that — 
man — was ! ” 

“ No. Seemed to be all right. 
“ Why! ” 

“ Why that was Dan Wilbur ! ” 

Then Susan really fainted. 


12 


XIX 


HAT little interview between Dan 



X Wilbur and Lieutenant Paul Ab- 
ercrombie Harwell Rowland in the phy- 
sician’s reception room had been pithy 
and pointed and pertinent. Paul had all 
sorts of trouble on his mind, among 
them a fainting wife, possibly hurt, and 
the sole direction of the destiny of two 
trusting hearts. He paced back and 
forth across the room, watch in hand, 
the while Mr. Wilbur regarded him cold- 
ly, conscious that he was the instrument 
of Fate in this thing. Mr. Wilbur had 
just opened his listless mouth to give 
voice to a diplomatic catapult when 
Paul turned on him suddenly. 

“ I say, old man,” he complained, 
“ we’re in all sorts of a hole.” 

By “ we ” Mr. Wilbur understood that 


172 


The Simple Case of Susan 


he included Susan in the next room. He 
retired the diplomatic catapult to await 
orders; perhaps this fellow would com- 
mit himself. 

“ In what way? ” Mr. Wilbur inquired 
frigidly. 

Paul was staring at him hard. 

“ You know circumstances occasion- 
ally arise when it is not only inadvisable 
for gentlemen to know each other, but 
it would be the height of indiscretion 
for them to introduce themselves,” Paul 
went on evenly. “ Now I don’t happen 
to know your name, and you don’t know 
mine. I only know that you gave prompt 
and willing assistance when we needed 
it, and I thank you for it.” 

Mr. Wilbur waved his hand deprecat- 
ingly. 

“Now Pm going to ask a favor of 
you,” Paul continued. “ If it is within 
your power to grant it I hope you will ; 

173 


The Simple Case of Susan 


and if you do it will instantly make it 
indiscreet for me to know you and you 
to know me, at least for the present. 
Frankly, if you do it and get away with 
it, it’s going to kick up a dickens of a 
row, and in that event the less you know 
about me and the less I know about you 
the better.” 

Mr. Wilbur was getting interested. 
By Jove, it was just like a page out of 
a Williamson story, mixed up with an 
Agnes and Egerton Castle chapter. 

“ Coming down to brass tacks, there’s 
an elopement on,” Paul continued, still 
staring hard at Mr. Wilbur. “We were 
to go meet the girl at a quarter of seven 
o’clock. It’s now about five minutes 
past seven, and — ” He waved his hands 
despairingly. 

“ This — this — ” and Mr. Wilbur nod- 
ded toward the other room, “ this isn’t 
the girl then?” 


174 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ No,” Paul replied. “ My — er — this 
lady has nothing to do with the affair 
beyond chaperoning the girl to the place 
of meeting.” He paused. “ My car is 
somewhere in the park, out of commis- 
sion ; I can’t go away and leave her here 
not knowing what’s the matter with her ; 
it’s twenty minutes past meeting time, 
and the bride-to-be is probably crying 
her eyes out. Your car is at the door. 
You can straighten the whole thing out. 
Will you do it! ” 

And then a huge wave of comprehen- 
sion swept over Mr. Wilbur. Susan was 
not eloping! Of course not! She was 
merely aiding some one who was. Per- 
haps this black-mustached chap was the 
bridegroom ! 

“Will you do it!” Paul repeated 
tersely. 

Nothing so quickly begets a spirit of 
reparation as a realization of having 
175 


The Simple Case of Susan 


wronged one. Suddenly Mr. Wilbur 
found himself utterly ashamed of his 
suspicions, and with this shame came 
an irresistible impulse to make amends 
by whatever means came to hand. Here 
evidently was an opportunity to oblige 
Susan. 

“ PH do it,” he said unhesitatingly. 
“ Where am I to go ? ” 

“ One other thing,” Paul continued 
impressively. “ It may be, if the girl 
is still waiting, there will be an at- 
tempt made to follow you. Of course 
you would know what to do in that 
case? ” 

“ I understand,” replied Mr. Wilbur. 

He drew out a pair of goggles and tied 
them on, settled his cap, tugged at his 
gloves, and accepted a card which Paul 
handed him. There were some crisp in- 
structions and he went out. Paul stood 
still until he heard the whirr of the auto- 
176 


The Simple Case of Susan 


mobile outside as it started away, and 
then went in to tell Susan. 

Mr. Wilbur pulled out of Ninety-sixth 
Street into Central Park West and went 
due north with slowly increasing mo- 
mentum. The wind brushed his cheeks 
gratefully and fanned a smoldering en- 
thusiasm into flames. It was the near- 
est thing to an adventure that had ever 
come his way. And he was beginning to 
like it tremendously. The uncertainty 
of it all, and the mystery, and the feel- 
ing of responsibility for the happiness 
of two unknown hearts! Confound it, 
it was bully to be doing something. For- 
tunately for his peace of mind it did not 
occur to him that he had heard Susan 
kiss this dark-mustached chap, and avow 
her love for him — he remembered only 
that he had misjudged her and that now 
he was making amends. 

At One Hundred and Fifth Street a 

177 


The Simple Case of Susan 


policeman shouted at him wamingly. 
Mr. Wilbur grinned with the sheer de- 
light of the thing and slithered on his 
way. He turned east at One Hundred 
and Tenth Street with undiminished 
speed, and the north end of Central 
Park slid gloomily past on his right. At 
St. Nicholas Avenue he eased up a little 
and proceeded more sedately to Fifth 
Avenue. A few quick, furtive glances 
all around, then he turned and came 
back along One Hundred and Tenth 
Street very slowly, hugging the curb 
next to the Park, until he had cov- 
ered about half a block. There he 
stopped. 

“ Honk, honk, honk ! ” remarked the 
car impatiently. Then : “ Honk, honk ! ” 
And again : “ Honk, honk ! ” 

Mr. Wilbur peered with eager eyes 
into the darkness. After a moment a 
figure detached itself from the shadows 
178 


The Simple Case of Susan 


— a slender girlish figure — and ran 
toward the automobile. Mr. Wilbur 
leaped out and threw open the door of 
the tonneau, incidentally straining his 
eyes to get a glimpse of the girl’s face 
as he handed her in. His curiosity was 
rebuked by a heavy veil which enviously 
enveloped head and face and throat. 
But Mr. Wilbur knew intuitively that 
she was pretty. 

He paused for just a moment to sat- 
isfy himself that his machine was ship- 
shape, and then with a feeling of exulta- 
tion took his seat again. A veiled lady ! 
By George, it was all according to Hoyle ! 
The accident in the park, the mysterious 
man, and the veiled lady ! The car 
moved west slowly. He almost regretted 
that the only thing remaining for him to 
do now was to deliver the girl to an ad- 
dress in Sixty-fifth Street — the number 
written on the card. Anyway he would 
179 


The Simple Case of Susan 


claim the right of being best man at the 
wedding ! 

His meditations were interrupted by 
the weight of a light hand on his shoul- 
der. He turned suddenly. 

“Look!” exclaimed the veiled lady 
anxiously. 

Mr. Wilbur looked. A huge tour- 
ing car had bulged suddenly into the 
street from Fifth Avenue, and was 
drawing up at the curb on the park 
side. It contained a chauffeur, one 
other man, and a woman in the rear 
seat. 

“ Honk, honk, honk ! ” said the new- 
comer. “ Honk, honk ! ” And again : 
“ Honk, honk ! ” 

“ Thb signal, by Jove ! ” remarked 
Mr. Wilbur to himself. “ It isn’t all 
over after all.” And he was positively 
glad of it. 

“ Honk, honk, honk ! ” his car bel- 
180 


The Simple Case of Susan 


lowed defiantly. “ Honk, honk ! ” And 
again : “ Honk, honk ! ” 

It was a spirit of dare-deviltry that 
prompted him. Instantly the challenge 
was accepted, and the big tonring car 
behind started forward with a jerk. Mr. 
Wilbur grinned, kicked loose the speed 
clutch and started west in earnest. 

“ Honk, honk, honk ! ” screamed the 
car behind. It was moving like the wind 
now. 

“ Honk, honk, honk ! ” taunted the car 
ahead. 

Speed ordinances are idiotic things, 
anyway. If you don’t believe it ask any 
automobilist. Mr. Wilbur didn’t think 
much of them evidently, for he gave 
his car her head now, and buckled 
down over the steering wheel. He 
glanced back once to reassure the veiled 
lady. 

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said exult- 
181 


The Simple Case of Susan 


antly. “ Nothing on wheels can catch 
this car.” 

Straight along One Hundred and 
Tenth Street, then a sudden swerve to 
the right, and St. Nicholas Avenue lay- 
straight before him. The other car 
came on and swerved in after him. De- 
lightful little thrills were chasing up and 
down Mr. Wilbur’s aristocratic spine. 
He would keep going uptown until he 
shook off his pursuer, then dodge out 
of the way and double back. That was 
his purpose ; and incidentally it was one 
of the few times in his life that he had a 
definite purpose. 

And so the cars raced on, sworn at by 
pedestrians, shouted at by policemen, 
barked at by little dogs until Central 
Park was lost in the darkness behind, 
and they were both swallowed up in the 
wilds of Harlem. 


XX 



HILE telephone, telegraph, spe- 


▼ t cial messengers, and two private 
detectives were busily ransacking New 
York City for Mr. Stanwood, he was 
sitting in the drawing-room of his coun- 
try place at Tarrytown, on a Chippen- 
dale settle with his feet on a Louis XIY 
chair, telling Mortimer how to hang a 
picture. The place hadn’t been opened 
for the season, the ’phones had not been 
connected, therefore it was the most un- 
likely place for Mr. Stanwood to be. 

“A little more to the right, Morti- 
mer,” he directed. 

“Yes, sir.” 

And just then Hollis came in. 

“ Please, sir, Mr. Wilbur is here,” Hol- 
lis announced, “ and is very anxious to 
see you immediately.” 


183 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Dan Wilbur ? ” inquired Mr. Stan- 
wood. “ Tell him to come in.” 

And a moment later Dan Wilbur ap- 
peared. Beneath a coating of dust Mr. 
Stanwood was able to recognize him, 
and he arose in surprise. 

“What’s the matter, Dan?” he in- 
quired. “ Sit down.” 

“I haven’t a moment,” Mr. Wilbur 
apologized. “I didn’t know you were 
up here. I came by on a chance of being 
able to borrow a car from your garage. 
I knew you kept one or two up here. 
May I have it? ” 

“ Certainly,” replied Mr. Stanwood. 
“But what’s the matter? What’s the 
excitement ? ” 

“ My machine broke down a couple of 
hundred yards back here,” Mr. Wilbur 
explained hastily. “I must have an- 
other at once in order to — to get back 
to New York. It’s a matter of vital im- 
184 


The Simple Case of Susan 


portance.” He paused thoughtfully. 
“ There’s another car behind, chasing 
me.” 

“Chasing you?” repeated Mr. Stan- 
wood. “ Hollis, run around to the gar- 
age and bring that sixty-horse power 
machine to the door.” Then, to Mr. 
Wilbur: “Who’s chasing you? And 
why? ” 

Mr. Wilbur nervously removed his 
goggles and tied them on again. 

“ Well, as a matter of fact,” he con- 
fessed, “ I’m mixed up in an elopement, 
and ” 

“Elopement?” interrupted Mr. Stan- 
wood in amazement. “ Elopement? ” 

“ Oh, Vm not eloping,” Mr. Wilbur 
hastened to explain. “I’m helping a 
chap who was to meet the girl and take 
her to the place to be married. Imme- 
diately after I picked her up this other 
car appeared in pursuit, and we’ve been 
185 


The Simple Case of Susan 


racing all over Westchester ever since. 
My idea, of course, was to dodge them 
and get back to New York, then just as 
I lost sight of them my car broke down. 
I hid the girl out in the woods a couple 
of hundred yards back here until I could 
come here and borrow a car. That’s all. 
She’s waiting, scared to death, I sup- 
pose, out there in the woods, and I don’t 
happen to know how far back the pur- 
suing car is.” 

He stopped breathlessly. There was 
a twinkle in Mr. Stan wood’s eyes. 

“If you’re violating no confidence, 
who is the girl? ” he asked. 

Mr. Wilbur stared at him blankly. 

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I 
don’t even know who the man is. I don’t 
know anything about it, except that I’m 
honor bound to shake off that other car 
and get her down to Sixty-fifth Street in 
a hurry.” 


186 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Mr. Stanwood laughed outright. 

“ Why, confound it, you’ve stirred up 
a genuine adventure, haven’t you?” he 
chuckled. He clapped Mr. Wilbur on 
the shoulder and led him toward the 
front door. “I didn’t think it was in 
you, Dan,” he added. 

“’Tis kind of queer, isn’t it?” Mr. 
Wilbur said. “ I rather liked it at first 
— something different, you know. But 
I couldn’t lose that car behind me to save 
me. There must be a thousand dollars 
in fines piled up against my machine. 
Every policeman I passed shouted at 
me, and took my number.” 

“Not getting tired of it, Dan?” Mr. 
Stanwood rebuked. “ And you haven’t 
delivered the girl yet! Think of the 
anxious hearts that are awaiting her. 
Say, Dan,” he went on suddenly, “let 
me get in, won’t you? I haven’t had any 
real excitement for ten years. Let me 
is 187 


The Simple Case of Susan 


go along with you? I’m going back to 
the city, anyway.” 

Mr. Wilbur considered it thought- 
fully. 

“ I can’t see any objection,” he said at 
last. “ The girl won’t mind, I don’t sup- 
pose. I’m going to cut for the city as 
soon as I get the car. Come along.” 

The churning of Mr. Stan wood’s auto- 
mobile came to them faintly from out- 
side. The millionaire swooped up hat 
and coat and rushed out, following Mr. 
Wilbur. They routed out Hollis and 
tumbled into the front seat, side by side. 
In the bow of his own automobile, Mr. 
Stanwood instantly assumed command. 

“ Now, let’s get the girl,” he directed 
tersely, “and then, Dan, my boy, we’ll 
show ’em just how good we are. We 
two are equal to an army, eh?” 

He poked Mr. Wilbur jovially in the 
ribs and chuckled. Why this was more 
188 


The Simple Case of Susan 


fun than he’d ever had before in all his 
life! 

“ Of course if that other automobile 
doesn’t come along it’s simple enough 
now,” Mr. Wilbur explained as he put 
on power. 

“Let her come,” boasted Mr. Stan- 
wood. “ We’ll run the legs off her.” 

Under Mr. Wilbur’s dexterous ma- 
nipulation the car twisted and squirmed 
out into the road again, and went snoop- 
ing along through the darkness. After 
a minute or so the lights of his own car, 
stationary beside the road, rose out of 
the gloom and he stopped beside it. 

“ Honk, honk, honk ! ” observed the 
new car blatantly. “ Honk, honk ! ” 
And again : “ Honk, honk ! ” 

There was a crackling of twigs in 
the underbrush to the left, and the 
veiled lady appeared timidly, silhouetted 
against the light. Mr. Stanwood gal- 
189 


The Simple Case of Susan 


lantly leaped out. For an instant the 
veiled lady hesitated as Mr. Stanwood 
approached, hesitated as if contemplat- 
ing flight. 

“ It’s all right — Pm here,” Mr. Wilbur 
called out. 

“Here we are — right in here,” Mr. 
Stanwood instructed. “ Got a little new 
blood in the game, that’s all,” and he 
handed her into the tonneau. “ Now 
don’t worry for a moment, little lady,” 
he added paternally. “We’ll pull you 
through all right. 6 All the world loves 
a lover,’ you know. Ha! ha! ha! We 
won’t keep him waiting a minute longer 
than we can possibly help.” 

The veiled lady shrank back timidly 
into the farthest corner before this good- 
natured outburst of assurance ; and, still 
chuckling, Mr. Stanwood clambered in 
beside Mr. Wilbur again. Mr. Wilbur 
was listening intently, and Mr. Stan- 
190 


The Simple Case of Susan 


wood also listened. Faintly there came 
to them the chug -chug -chug of a rapidly 
moving car, and as they all looked back 
her dazzling lights flashed into sight 
around a curve in the roadway. 

“ There she comes ! ” announced Mr. 
Stanwood delightedly. 

“ Here we go ! ” announced Mr. Wil- 
bur grimly. 

“ Now, my boy,” remarked Mr. Stan- 
wood placidly, “ let’s show ’em how fast 
a real automobile can run.” 

Mr. Wilbur pulled her wide open, and 
the machine fairly jumped out of her 
tracks. Mr. Stanwood’s hat went skim- 
ming off into the night like a rifle shot, 
and he only laughed. 

“ Honk, honk, honk ! ” bleated the pur- 
suing car. 

“Honk, honk, honk!” Mr. Stanwood 
bleated back at it. 

The wind was sweeping up into their 
191 


The Simple Case of Susan 


faces, the keen night air was stinging 
color into their cheeks, and Mr. Stan- 
wood’s hatless white head looked like a 
venerable porcupine. He settled back 
comfortably, enjoying every instant of 
it, while the darkened world went reel- 
ing past. 


XXI 


M E. WILBUR’S was a master hand 
on the steering wheel. Mr. Stan- 
wood looked on admiringly at the ease 
and certainty with which he held sixty 
horse power at his finger tips, the while 
he permitted himself to vaguely regret 
that such a blamed good chauffeur had 
been spoiled to make only a tamely in- 
teresting man of the world. However, 
if he got Han in the family that would 
be something. Which reminded him of 
the surpassing impertinence of the im- 
pecunious Lieutenant Faulkner. Eigh- 
teen hundred a year ! Confound him ! 

For half a mile or so the cars slid on 
through the night seemingly without the 
variation of a hair’s breadth in their 
position, each to the other. 

“ Can’t you give her some more 
193 


The Simple Case of Susan 


power? ” Mr. Stanwood shouted in Mr. 
Wilbur’s ear. 

“Pm using every pound she’s got,” 
Mr. Wilbur shouted back. 

“ That chap back there’s sticking like 
glue,” Mr. Stanwood bawled. And that 
chap back there could drive a car, too, 
if anybody asked about it. Henri, his 
own chauffeur, didn’t have a thing on 
that chap back there. 

And then slowly, slowly, they began 
to draw away from the pursuing car. 
Their advantage was almost impercep- 
tible at first, but after a minute or so the 
pursuer’s lights began to drop back rap- 
idly, and the clamor of her engines grew 
fainter. A lucky bend in the road hid 
the dazzling eyes behind for an instant, 
and Mr. Wilbur availed himself of this 
to twist off suddenly to the right, along 
an intersecting road. A few hundred 
yards that way and he turned again to 
194 


The Simple Case of Susan 


the right, doubled back and crossed their 
own track, coming out at last on a spider 
web of road. The hound-like car behind 
was shaken off, at least temporarily. 

“Maybe that wasn’t all right!” bel- 
lowed Mr. Stanwood enthusiastically. 
“ Now, cut it for New York.” 

Mr. Wilbur eased up slightly. 

“ You don’t know that chap back 
there,” he remarked. “I’ve lost him 
two or three times, but he always turns 
up again. He’s a mind reader.” 

“ Well, if we can keep out of his sight 
until we get back to town he’s lost all 
right,” said Mr. Stanwood conclusively. 
“ Go ’way off on the west side and we’ll 
make our grandstand finish down River- 
side Drive. And don’t slow up.” He 
turned to the veiled lady in the rear. 
“ We’re all right now,” he assured 
her. 

She nodded graciously. 

195 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Now, Mr. Wilbur was not the sort of 
a man to keep two fond hearts in sus- 
pense, so he gave the car her head again. 
He hadn’t the faintest idea what time it 
was, but it must be at least an hour and 
a half since he started. That dark-mus- 
tached chap and Susan must be thinking 
all sorts of things. Of course they would 
understand that something had hap- 
pened, because the dark-mustached chap 

had intimated that 

Suddenly a man stepped out into the 
roadway in front of them and waved his 
arms frantically. Confound it. Here 
was another fine to be charged up to his 
car. No, it wasn’t his car, after all. It 
was Mr. Stanwood’s car. Mr. Wilbur 
grinned a little and went skidding over 
to the left, intending to pass this human 
semaphore. But this particular human 
semaphore evidently anticipated some- 
thing of this kind, as there had been no 
196 


The Simple Case of Susan 


diminution of speed, so he made a mega- 
phone of his hands and bawled at them : 

“ Bridge — down — ahead ! ” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Mr. Wilbur. 

Click! And the churning of the en- 
gines ceased. Snap ! And the brake was 
on, gently at first, then harder, until the 
hurtling car came to a standstill with a 
groan a couple of hundred feet farther 
on. The human semaphore was strol- 
ling toward them. Mr. Stanwood and 
Mr. Wilbur leaped out and went back to 
meet him. 

“Did you say there was a bridge 
down ? ” Mr. Wilbur inquired briskly. 
“ Where is it? ” 

The man regarded him with a smile 
of complete superiority. 

“ I don’t know,” he answered. “ Just 
a little trick of mine to stop you chaf- 
fers when you’re speeding. It always 
gets ’em the first time I work it on ’em. 
197 


The Simple Case of Susan 


You gents’ll have to come along to the 
police station.” 

Mr. Stanwood and Mr. Wilbur stared 
at the plain clothes man for one mute 
instant, and then Mr. Stanwood arose 
and declared himself. Hot, passionate, 
sizzling words flowed from his lips in a 
torrent ; plain and fancy expletives, 
ground and lofty adjectives, and verbal 
flip-flops, added to which was a hetero- 
geneous mass of just ordinary Ameri- 
can cuss words. Contemptible little rat ! 
A trick like that when they were in a 
hurry ! 

The plain clothes man listened to the 
end complacently, making a mental note 
of some of the words which were new to 
him. He drew a long breath at the 
finish. 

“ That makes two charges,” he said at 
last. “ Speeding and profanity.” 

That started Mr. Stanwood going 
198 


The Simple Case of Susan 


again, but Mr. Wilbur laid a restrain- 
ing hand on his arm and he simmered 
down. 

“ Now look here,” said Mr. Stanwood, 
“ it’s out of the question for us to 
go with you. We have — er — a lady 
in the car, and we must get down 
town at once. We understand your 
position, of course. There’s no one 
around, and I think perhaps I have a 
fifty-dollar bill here that might be use- 
ful to you! ” 

“ That makes attempted bribery,” re- 
marked the plain clothes man. “ Speed- 
ing, profanity, and attempted bribery.” 

And then Mr. Stanwood did blow up. 

“ Why, confound you,” he blazed, “ if 
you keep adding up those things against 
me like that I’ll — I’ll give you a poke in 
the nose.” 

“ And threatening an officer,” supple- 
mented the incorruptible one. “ There 
199 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ain’t anything to it — you gents’ll have to 
go with me.” 

Compared to what Mr. Stanwood said 
now, the things he had said previously 
were mere idle fripperies, lightsome rep- 
artee, airy persiflage, decorative rhe- 
toric, colorless colloquialisms. He kept 
saying them until he ran down, the while 
Mr. Wilbur, from time to time, gazed 
off into the darkness behind apprehen- 
sively. This elopement, according to 
Susan’s plans and specifications, seemed 
to be in a bad way ; and if that other car 
should happen to turn up again ! 

“ Let me speak to the gentleman,” re- 
marked Mr. Wilbur at last. He took the 
plain clothes man by the arm and purred 
into a large, red ear. “Now, Mister — 
Mister — may I inquire your name, sir ? ” 

“ Jenkins,” the officer obliged. 

“Jenkins!” repeated Mr. Wilbur in 
amazement. “ Why,” and he seized one 
200 


The Simple Case of Susan 


of the officer’s hands and shook it effu- 
sively, “ why, you must be a son of old 
man Jenkins, then, aren’t you? ” 

Mr. Jenkins feebly admitted that he 
was. 

“Why, think of it!” Mr. Wilbur 
rippled on smoothly. “ Running across 
you like this! Why, I feel as if I’d 
known you always — heard so much 
about you and all that.” He drew 
back and peered into the other’s face. 
“Just like your father, too,” he com- 
plimented. “ Say, now, old chap, you 
and I can understand each other in just 
a minute.” 

Mr. Jenkins wasn’t so certain about 
it ; however, he didn’t say anything. Mr. 
Wilbur leaned forward again and buzzed 
in his ear. 

“ You see,” he confessed, “ it’s an 
elopement. The lady’s in the automo- 
bile there, and her folks are in a car be- 
201 


The Simple Case of Susan 


hind chasing us. If they catch us it’s 
all off. Do you see? ” 

“ Where did you know my father?” 
Mr. Jenkins inquired suspiciously. 

Mr. Wilbur buzzed on hastily: 

“ Two blighted hearts, and all that 
sort of thing, you know. You are going 
to let us pass — I know you are. Ha! 
ha! ha! It will be a good joke to tell 
your father, eh? Held up one of his 
oldest friends, as he was eloping.” 

“ Where did you know my father?” 
Mr. Jenkins insisted again. 

Mr. Wilbur’s mind went utterly blank. 
He turned helplessly to Mr. Stanwood. 

“ Where was it we met Mr. Jenkins, 
father?” he inquired. “ In — er — oh! 
Where was it? ” 

“ I know where Pd like to meet him,” 
Mr. Stanwood growled. 

“ You can’t kid me, young fellow,” Mr. 
Jenkins declared wisely. “ My name 
202 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ain’t Jenkins. He ! he ! he ! It’s McMar- 
tin. Come along to the station, now.” 

Mr. Wilbur’s hands closed, but his 
voice was like velvet. 

“ But we must go to New York, Mr. 
McMartin,” he urged. “ It’s absolutely 
necessary. Will — will a hundred dollars 
be of any use to you? ” 

“ No,” said Mr. McMartin. “ Come 
along.” 

“ Two hundred? ” 

“ Cut that out, and come along.” 

Mr. Wilbur was staring straight into 
his eyes. 

“ Is there no possible way to arrange 
it ? ” he inquired placidly. 

“ Come along, I tell you.” 

“Well, I’ve got to get to New York, 
Mr. McMartin,” Mr. Wilbur purred. “ I 
hate to do this, but ! ” 

And his right hand caught Mr. Mc- 
Martin squarely upon the point of the 
14 203 


The Simple Case of Susan 


jaw, whereupon the incorruptible one 
wrinkled up and went down like a lump 
of clay. Mr. Stanwood took one step 
forward. 

“He isn’t hurt,” Mr. Wilbur explained 
calmly, as he daintily wiped his hands 
on a handkerchief. “ He’ll be all right 
in ten minutes. Now let’s go to New 
York.” 

Mr. Stanwood gazed down upon the 
prostrate figure pensively. He wouldn’t 
have believed that there was a policeman 
in the world who would have refused 
two hundred dollars. 

“Well, it’s done,” he said philosoph- 
ically. “Let’s go.” 

They were just turning toward the 
automobile when a mounted policeman 
galloped past it, coming toward them. 

“Now, we are in trouble,” remarked 
Mr. Stanwood grimly. “If anything 
happens, Dan, you take the car and run 
204 


The Simple Case of Susan 


for it. I’ll be hanged if I’ll let a couple 
of mudhead policemen stop us now. 1*11 
see this thing through, by ginger, if it 
costs a million dollars.” 

“ What’s the matter here? ” demanded 
the uniformed man as he dismounted. 
“ Did your car hit him? ” 

Thirty years in Wall Street had fitted 
Mr. Stanwood to meet emergencies. 

“No,” he said, after a little pause. 
“A little personal difficulty — that’s all. 
There’s nothing serious the matter. It 
was only a knockout.” 

The mounted policeman satisfied him- 
self as to Mr. McMartin’s condition, then 
arose and faced them. 

“ Which one of you hit him? ” he de- 
manded. 

Mr. Stanwood’ s hand closed warn- 
ingly on Mr. Wilbur’s arm. 

“ I hit him,” he lied glibly. “ I was 
walking along here alone ; he was imper- 
205 


The Simple Case of Susan 


tinent to me and I did that. This gentle- 
man came up in his automobile a mo- 
ment later and stopped to see what was 
the matter. He doesn’t know anything 
at all about it.” 

A hint was as good as a mile to Mr. 
Wilbur. By Jove, this old chap knew 
how to rise to an occasion. The uni- 
formed man stood staring mutely into 
Mr. Stan wood’s face in the dim light, 
with a glint of recognition in his eyes. 

“ Seems to me I’ve seen your picture 
somewhere,” he said at last. “ In the 
Bogues’ Gallery? ” 

“ Oh, I dare say,” remarked Mr. Stan- 
wood. “ It’s in every other publication 
you pick up.” 

“ What’s your name? ” 

“John Smith, of course,” he said 
cheerfully. “ Come along. Don’t stand 
here palavering all night.” The officer 
turned to his restive horse an instant, 
206 


The Simple Case of Susan 


and Mr. Stanwood spoke aside to Mr. 
Wilbur : “ Now, Dan, it’s up to you. If 
you fail to finish it I’ll cowhide you. 
After it’s all over, come back and get me 
out of hock.” 


XXII 


M B. WILBUB and the mysterious 
veiled lady were skimming along 
toward Sixty-fifth Street and Susan ; 
Mr. McMartin was lying on a couch in 
the back room of a police station count- 
ing a procession of star clusters, and 
Mr. Fulton Stanwood, knight-errant, 
with one criminal charge against him 
and a few others impending, sat content- 
edly on a bench in the captain’s office in 
gentle meditation. He was a sacrifice 
upon the altar of adventure, and — and 
it was bully, that’s all! Talk about 
jousting for a lady’s glove! He only 
hoped Dan would be able to get through 
all right. If he didn’t — if he didn’t! 
Well, a fellow who didn’t have enough 
gumption to carry away a simple adven- 
208 


The Simple Case of Susan 


ture like this wasn’t the man for his son- 
in-law ! 

Away down in Sixty-fifth Street, in 
the drawing-room of the Rev. Dr. Haw- 
thorne, Lieutenant Paul Abercrombie 
Harwell Rowland sat phlegmatically 
watching Susan as she paced back and 
forth, pausing anxiously each time at 
the window to look out. Not a word 
from Dan Wilbur! Not a word from 
Marjorie! Not a word from Lieuten- 
ant Faulkner! Of course it was pos- 
sible that Dan had been held up, or 
pursued, or something; he’d appear all 
right, and she could depend upon Mar- 
jorie’s cleverness to keep her identity 
away from him. But suppose she 
hadn’t? Suppose Dan had found out 
who she was, and had taken her 
back home? And where, where was 
Faulk? Suddenly Susan turned upon 
Paul. 


209 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Oh, I’m so worried ! ” she announced. 
“ I feel just like crying.” 

“ Go ahead,” he suggested consider- 
ately. 

“ I won’t ! ” she stormed. 

And then she pouted. Susan was ir- 
resistible when she pouted. Her lips 
looked like a rosebud, and tears 
of aggravation glistened in her eyes. 
If Dr. Hawthorne hadn’t been in 
the next room, and the sliding doors 
hadn’t been open, Paul would have — 
would have — but he was, and they 
were — so ! 

“ Where can Faulk fee?” she de- 
manded for the twenty-ninth time. 

“ I haven’t the faintest idea,” Paul re- 
sponded as usual. 

“ And the others ? ” 

“ Ditto.” 

“ I know Faulk must have been hurt, 
or killed, or something, and there you 
210 


The Simple Case of Susan 


sit like a dummy and let me do all the 
worrying.” 

“ I don’t know whether he has been or 
not,” said Paul aggravatingly, “ but 
I’ll gamble that he gets here — dead or 
alive.” 

As a matter of fact, at just that 
psychological moment Lieutenant Faulk- 
ner was entering a telephone booth in 
a Forty-second Street hotel. Oddly 
enough, he had asked for the Stanwood 
residence in Fifth Avenue. 

“ Is Mr. Stanwood in 1 ” he inquired 
calmly. 

“ No, sir,” replied a man, evidently a 
servant. 

“Or Miss Stanwood — his sister?” 

“ No, sir. They are both out, sir, and 
we don’t know where they are or when 
they will be back.” 

“ Well, will you please tell them 
when they return to come at once 
211 


The Simple Case of Susan 


to the Rev. Dr. Hawthorne’s home in 
Sixty-fifth Street?” and he gave the 
number. 

“I doubt, sir, if they can come to- 
night,” explained the servant. “ Some 
important family affairs, sir, and ” 

“ Oh, yes, they’ll come,” the Lieuten- 
ant interrupted confidently. “You tell 
them that Lieutenant Faulkner — Lieu- 
tenant Robert E. Lee Faulkner — is wait- 
ing for them, and they’ll come all right. 
Good-by.” 


An automobile drew up in front of the 
police station and stopped with a blatant 
honk. Mr. Stanwood jumped. Great 
Scott! Had Dan been caught again? 
He peered anxiously out of the door of 
the captain’s office to see who came in. 
It was a woman — a thin, angular, aris- 
tocratic looking woman. 

212 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Elvira ! ” Mr. Stanwood almost 
shouted. 

He forgot he was a favored prisoner, 
and rushed into the outer office. His 
sister turned, amazed, at the sound of 
her name. 

“ Well — Fulton ! ” she exclaimed. 

“ Go back in that room,” commanded 
the desk sergeant harshly. “ Any tricks 
like that and you’ll go in a cell.” 

Mr. Stanwood meekly sneaked back 
into the captain’s office, and stood peer- 
ing out. His sister stopped nonplused. 
In a cell! Her brother! Fulton Stan- 
wood ! And did the man live who dared 
to order him about like that? 

“ I’m a prisoner, Elvira,” Mr. Stan- 
wood explained humbly. “ I hit a police- 
man. What are you doing away up 
here? ” 

Miss Stanwood told him tersely. 
First, there was Marjorie’s elopement 
213 


The Simple Case of Susan 


with Lieutenant Faulkner, which came 
to her knowledge indirectly. Marjorie 
had confided in her maid, the maid had 
told a man servant, and the man ser- 
vant informed her. Mr. Stanwood lis- 
tened as if stunned. Then came a de- 
tailed description of the chase in the 
automobile from Central Park up St. 
Nicholas Avenue and through Tarry- 
town. 

“ Their car broke down within a 
couple of hundred yards of our place 
in Tarrytown,” Miss Stanwood went on 
to say. “ We had lost sight of them mo- 
mentarily. They got another car some- 
where, and were just leaving their 
broken-down car when we sighted them. 
They had picked up another man, too — 
some white-headed old idiot who’d lost 
his hat.” 

Mr. Stanwood gulped hard and was 
silent. 


214 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Then they simply outran us,” she 
continued. “ Their car was the better. 
I’ve had every one searching for you, 
and stopped here to telephone home to 
see if you had been home or had been 
found.” 

“ But it wasn’t Faulkner she eloped 
with,” Mr. Stanwood corrected finally. 
“It was Dan Wilbur.” 

“ Dan Wilbur? How do you know? ” 

“ Oh, I know all right.” 

And then Mr. Stanwood told 
his story. She listened to the end 
without an interruption — an unusual 
thing for a woman to do — and then, 
severely : 

“ So it would appear that while I was 
in the rear car trying to stop them, you 
were in the front car giving them active 
assistance? ” 

“It would certainly appear so, El- 
vira,” he acquiesced sadly. 

215 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Well, don’t you know your own 
daughter? Can’t you see?” 

“ Oh, she had on all sorts of veils and 
things, and — and — besides, Elvira, I 
never heard of a man who had enough 
nerve to ask the father of the girl he’s 
eloping with to help. And why should 
she elope with Dan Wilbur? ” 

Miss Stanwood was regarding him 
sternly. Mr. Stanwood dodged. 

“ Well, Fulton,” she said in measured 
tones, “you are perhaps the most per- 
fect specimen of an idiot I’ve ever met.” 

“ I believe I am, Elvira.” 

Mr. Stanwood stood helplessly for a 
moment, then suddenly went out to the 
desk sergeant. 

“ I must go down town,” he began au- 
thoritatively. 

“Oh, you must , must you?” sneered 
the sergeant. 

“ But listen a moment, sergeant.” 

216 


The Simple Case of Susan 


And really it was worth listening to. 
He pleaded and threatened and coaxed 
and raved and wheedled and swore. It 
was all the same. And finally he told 
him his real name — a magical password 
in three countries. The sergeant only 
smiled insolently. Then Mr. Stanwood 
blew up in one desperate effort. 

“ I didn’t hit that confounded McMar- 
tin, anyway. Bring him out here and 
he’ll tell you I didn’t.” 

Mr. McMartin came out, fully con- 
scious now. 

“ That ain’t the fellow that hit me,” he 
protested. “ It was his chaffer. Where 
is ifie% ” 

“You see,” remarked Mr. Stanwood 
loftily, “you have no charge against 
me.” 

“ Oh, yes,” Mr. McMartin broke in. 
“ I charge you with being an accomplice 
before the fact and after the fact, and 
217 


The Simple Case of Susan 


attempting bribery, and speeding an 
automobile, and threatening an officer, 
and profanity, and — and being a suspi- 
cious character. I guess them ought to 
hold you for a while.” 

“ Why not add murder and arson and 
the rest of it? ” Mr. Stanwood demanded 
savagely. 

“Won’t he take money? ” asked Miss 
Stanwood timidly. 

“ Sergeant, how about a cash bond? ” 
asked Mr. Stanwood. 

The sergeant talked it over with Mr. 
McMartin, and finally decided that two 
thousand dollars would be about right. 

“Very good,” commented Mr. Stan- 
wood. When anybody mentioned money 
he was in his element. He knew that his 
sister usually kept two or three thou- 
sand dollars in her desk at home for 
current expenses. “ Elvira,” he directed 
briskly, “ ’phone down, have a servant 
218 


The Simple Case of Susan 


smash your desk and bring all the money 
they find there.” 

He was the first officer now, and she 
was only the crew. She went into the 
telephone booth, and a moment later 
came out frankly excited. 

“Lieutenant Faulkner — ” she began, 
“ — Lieutenant Faulkner has just this 
minute left word at the house for you 
and me to come at once to Rev. Dr. 
Hawthorne’s in Sixty-fifth Street.” 

Mr. Stanwood glared at her with low- 
ering brows. 

“ Faulkner, eh? ” he said coldly. “ Of 
course I can’t go.” He glanced at the 
clock. “ There is a suburban train down 
from the station over here in ten min- 
utes. You get on that train, Elvira, go 
there, and if there’s been no marriage — 
if it isn’t too late — you see that there 
isn’t until I get there.” 

Miss Stanwood caught the train, and 
16 219 


The Simple Case of Susan 


fifteen minutes later took a cab from the 
Grand Central to the Sixty-fifth Street 
address. Just as her cab turned into 
the street from Central Park West, she 
saw an automobile draw up in front of 
Dr. Hawthorne’s. She knew that car! 
A man assisted a veiled woman out, and 
they went up the steps together. 

Miss Stanwood burst into the draw- 
ing-room, and every one present, except 
Dr. Hawthorne, ejaculated, “ Miss Stan- 
wood ! ” with varying degrees of amaze- 
ment and anxiety. There was Susan, 
clinging to Paul, and Mr. Wilbur with 
the oddest sort of an expression on his 
face, the veiled lady, and the mild, star- 
tled looking minister. 

“ I’ll take charge of this young lady,” 
Miss Stanwood declared authoritatively, 
and she did. “You’ll come right into 
the study here, my dear, and remain 
here until your father arrives.” 

220 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Susan turned with a broken-hearted 
whimper, and Paul gathered her in his 
arms protectingly. After all their 
trouble, too! 

“ Where can Faulk be? ” she asked for 
the thirtieth time. 

“ I haven’t the faintest idea,” Paul 
responded as usual. 

Miss Stanwood closed the door on her 
prisoner, then calmly drew forward a 
chair and sat down to wait. Mr. Wil- 
bur stood staring at her. There were 
so many unanswered questions knocking 
about in his brain that it gave him a 
headache. He knew the elder Miss Stan- 
wood. What did she have to do with it ? 
Then came an awful thought. Gee whil- 
likens! Was that Marjorie Stanwood 
— that veiled lady — and he’d helped her 
to elope? And had he not only helped 
her — his heart’s desire — to elope with 
another man — but he’d made her father 
221 


The Simple Case of Susan 


help ? Oh ! Oh-h ! Oh-h-h-h ! Then his 
eyes chanced to fall upon Susan in 
Paul’s arms. He blushed for her utter 
shamelessness ! That chap couldn’t be 
the bridegroom — he acted more like 
Susan’s husband. And where the deuce 
was Susan’s husband? 

There was a long tense pause, broken 
only by Susan’s gurgling sobs ; then, un- 
expectedly, Mr. Fulton Stanwood ap- 
peared before them in person, hatless 
and violent. 

“ Marjorie’s in here,” Miss Stanwood 
told him, quite as a matter of fact. 

“ I forbid the — the — this thing,” Mr. 
Stanwood bellowed at them. “ Where 
is he? ” and then his eyes fell upon Mr. 
Wilbur. “ So you did it, eh? ” he went 
on coldly, insolently. “You wanted to 
pay your attentions to my daughter ! I 
suppose that was merely a part of the 
trick? ” 


222 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Mr. Wilbur colored slightly, but he 
was perfectly calm. 

“I know nothing whatever about all 
this,” he said deliberately. “I have 
acted in the best of faith throughout, 
and in this rather unfortunate — I may 
say utterly unexpected — development I 
proceeded blindly to help another man 
whose name, even, I don’t know. I dare 
say,” he went on impersonally, “ he will 
be glad to speak for himself now.” 

Paul disengaged himself from Susan’s 
clinging arms and stood forward. 

“ I’m responsible for all of this — so 
far,” he said curtly. “ Mr. Wilbur was 
in no way to blame for anything that 
has happened.” 

“Who the deuce are you, anyway?” 
Mr. Stanwood blazed. 

“ Lieutenant Rowland, U. S. A.,” was 
the reply. “ Lieutenant Paul Aber- 
crombie Harwell Rowland.” 

223 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Mr. Stanwood passed one hand across 
a bewildered brow. 

“ Were you going to marry her! ” be 
inquired. 

“ Fortunately I am already married 
to the most charming woman in the 
world,” replied Paul, and Susan shot a 
quick, imploring glance at Mr. Wilbur. 
“ I was acting for another man.” 

“ Faulkner, eh? ” 

“ Lieutenant Faulkner, yes.” 

“ Well, where is hel ” 

And just at that moment Lieutenant 
Faulkner stood in the doorway. 

“ There he is now ! ” exclaimed every 
person in the room in chorus. 

“ Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” re- 
marked the lieutenant cheerfully. 

Mr. Stanwood turned upon him 
fiercely. 

“ Oh, it’s you, is it?” he thundered. 

“ You young — you — you ! ” 

224 


The Simple Case of Susan 


Lieutenant Faulkner stood perfectly 
still, smiling. 

“ I’ll ask that you don’t express your 
opinion of me here,” he said easily. 
“ There’s a minister present.” 


XXIII 


EUTENANT FAULKNER played 



JL^J the game according to the rules, 
trump for trump, so long as the rules 
seemed to adequately cover the partic- 
ular conditions to which they were 
applied. But he was liable to intro- 
duce a dazzling variation at any mo- 
ment; finesse a five-spot, for instance, 
while the other players looked on with 
their mouths open. Now there was 
a calm self-possession and cheerful- 
ness about him that irritated Mr. Stan- 
wood to a superlative degree, and at 


last: 


“Well, Mr. Stanwood, what are you 
going to do about it? ” 

“ Do about it? ” raged Mr. Stanwood. 
“ M never allow this marriage — that’s 
one thing certain.” 


226 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Your daughter, I believe, is twenty- 
two years old and I am thirty,” the lieu- 
tenant went on. “ Just how would you 
prevent it! ” 

“ Pd prevent it by — by — er — ” and he 
hesitated. “Pd prevent it, by — er — I’d 
cut her off without a cent, sir.” 

Lieutenant Faulkner nodded. 

“Very well,” he said. “And then!” 

“Pd disown her.” 

“And thenl ” 

Pd — I’d — ,” and suddenly Mr. Stan- 
wood grew perfectly calm. “ She shall 
choose between us, here and now. Open 
that door, Elvira, and let Marjorie 
come out.” 

“Now, just a moment please,” Lieu- 
tenant Faulkner requested. “ This may 
be the last opportunity I shall ever 
have to hold a conversation with you, 
and I wouldn’t miss it for worlds. 
As I understand it, your only valid 
227 


The Simple Case of Susan 


objection to me is that I haven’t any 
money? ” 

“ No, that is not all,” and Mr. Stan- 
wood glared belligerently into the young 
man’s eyes. “ I don’t like your imperti- 
nence, I don’t like your style, I don’t 
like your methods.” 

“ Just as you wouldn’t like the meth- 
ods of the man who defeated you in 
Wall Street, supposing such a thing 
possible,” supplemented the lieutenant. 
“Well, say it is my lack of money, 
because it would be manifestly un- 
fair to yon to compare pedigrees. 
Now we don’t care, either one of us, 
for your money. Do you understand 
that ? ” 

Mr. Stanwood began to sputter and 
spout again. 

“ You may take it and build a bonfire 
with it,” the lieutenant went on deliber- 
ately. “ Kick your mansions into East 
228 


The Simple Case of Susan 


River, sink your yacht, wreck your rail- 
roads, dig up your estates, bum your 
office buildings, light your pipe with 
your bonds, and melt up your gold re- 
serve and feed it to the cat. It may 
surprise you to know that money isn’t 
everything to everybody. I love your 
daughter — not your fortune — and she 
loves me. From the moment I knew she 
loved me you never bad a chance; as I 
told you I asked you for her band as a 
personal favor to you. Now I trust we 
understand each other; that’s all I have 
to say.” 

There was a long, heart-breaking si- 
lence. Mr. Wilbur said not a word. He 
was a well-bred gentleman, trimmed to 
pattern, with the raw edges turned 
under and sewed. From a refuge in 
her husband’s arms Susan taunted him 
with her eyes. Mr. Stanwood reluc- 
tantly admitted to himself that at 
229 


The Simple Case of Susan 


last he had found one man whom 
neither mere money nor bluster would 
awe. 

“ Elvira, let Marjorie come out,” he 
commanded. 

And then Lieutenant Faulkner 
finessed his five-spot. 

“ She’s not in there,” he remarked, 
pleasantly. “ She’s waiting for me out- 
side in an automobile. We were mar- 
ried two hours ago.” 

“Married! Already!” Mr. Stan- 
wood blurted. The others echoed the 
exclamation. 

“You see,” Lieutenant Faulkner ex- 
plained, “ the elopement plans were, of 
necessity, made known to my — my 
wife’s maid, and she betrayed us. I 
found it out just in time to send an- 
other maid along, heavily veiled, to ful- 
fil those plans, and while that was being 
done Marjorie and I were married, for 
230 


The Simple Case of Susan 


fear there would be an accident or some- 
thing. I imagine that’s the maid you 
have in that room.” 

And it was. Mr. Fulton Stanwood, 
knight-errant, gazed full into the eyes 
of his comrade in adventure, Mr. Wil- 
bur, and they both blushed. And of 
course everything ended happily. Mar- 
jorie — Mrs. Lieutenant Robert E. Lee 
Faulkner — appeared before her father; 
and that man who can resist the mute 
appeal of soft brown eyes and the caress 
of round, white arms, and the quivering 
of red, rosebud lips, is no sort of a man 
at all. Mr. Stanwood was a man, a red- 
blooded, vital, human being. What 
could he do? 

Half an hour passed. 

“ You folks had all better run over to 
the house with us and have a sort of 
wedding supper, I suppose,” said Mr. 
Stanwood at last. 

231 


The Simple Case of Susan 


“ Is that an invitation ? ” inquired 
Lieutenant Faulkner meaningly. 

“Yes, confound it,” said Mr. Stan- 
wood shortly. “I suppose Pll have to 
have it engraved and send it to you by 
a liveried messenger ? ” 

“ Oh, that isn’t necessary,” and Lieu- 
tenant Faulkner laughed happily. 

# # # # * 

Mr. Wilbur met Susan at an after- 
noon tea. 

“ Silly blunder I made,” he told 
her. “You know I thought all along 
that Faulkner chap was your hus- 
band? ” 

“ Why, Dan Wilbur ! ” Susan ex- 
claimed demurely. “ Where did you get 
such an idea as that ? ” 

“ I don’t know, you know,” he con- 
fessed. “ Stupid of me, wasn’t it? ” 

And on her way home Susan paused 
232 


The Simple Case of Susan 


to send a telegram to her aunt in Phila- 
delphia : 

“ Everything is all right. Faulk 
won.” 

And, of course, she was to blame for 
it all. 


(i) 


THE END 














APR 16 1308 

























* 











\ 






















































s 




























% 
















